I love St. Martin's Press. They are the home of Jennifer Crusie, Janet Evanovich, Darynda Jones, & Vicki Lewis Thompson, so clearly they have an eye for the good stuff. Those pure, uncut, sweet sweet book fixes we can't get anywhere else.
Yeah, we've all heard the phrase "author crack" for referring to those deeply addicting reads, but should we have been calling it author pot all along? Recently the Feds intercepted $70,000 worth of marijuana that was being sent to a fake employee at the St. Martin's Press headquarters. I know I should be indignant at the drug trafficking and the besmirching of St. Martin's very good name by tying it with such activities, but, I'm sorry, I can't get over how funny I think this is.
How awesome is it that the drug traffickers are literate! They picked a publishing house as a delivery address for their package which is really kinda brilliant because they get boxes of manuscripts sent to them every day and it wouldn't seem at all out of the ordinary. If I were some enterprising young intern with side-interests, I'd totally use the company as a front so I could afford to pay rent in Manhattan. Or... no... I wouldn't because it's wrong and illegal and I never do anything that is either of those things. Ever. So there.
I've often wondered what the secret ingredient is to really, deeply, wildly kick-ass books. Selling your soul to the devil? Voodoo? Hard work and talent? Naaah. Better writing through chemistry, baby.
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