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Steve Cavanagh Readers Club's avatar

I remember in 2013 Carole Baron wanted to buy my debut novel, but couldn't convince Mr. Mehta to say yes. No hard feelings from me, she was very kind and I've done alright since. Plus he published some of my favourite writers.

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Swing Thoughts and Roundabouts's avatar

https://classic.esquire.com/issue/19930401/print (pp. 106-07)

Soon after the Esquire photo was shot (I remember that whole murderers' row of editors trooping past my desk), we Knopf juniors had an encounter with Sonny that I shall always remember. One revealing what I'd like to imagine was Sonny's true character. Sonny spent his days around high-powered, formidible people. Make-you or break-you kinds of people. In the Esquire photo: Asbhel Green (make-you); Jane Freidman (break-you, horrible); Paul Boggards (a bro and a sport); Jon Segal (once gave me a c-note and told me to hit the bars); Judith Jones (make you: faultlessly kind, carried the saucer atop her tea cup with poise); Carol Carson (make you: livesaver); Peter Mayle (the talent); Gary F (make you: bro and a sport).

I suppose the occasion was a discussion bearing upon the promotion of Mayle's HOTEL PASTIS. Which explains Friedman, Boggards, and Carson. Then the photographer dragooned anyone they could find in the corridor. Anyway, a few hours after this august cast cleared out, an unnamed supernumary convened a small party in the same office. (Sonny kept a full bar). About an hour into our revels, who should appear but Sonny with Salman Rushdie in tow. I can see him now, looking down his glasses at us well into our second or third glasses, a haze in the air. Sonny (sotto voce): "You _fuckers_. " Rushdie looked highly amused. "Come on," said Sonny to the Booker laureate. And just like that, they disappeared.

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