“Were I called on to define, very briefly, the term Art, I should call it the reproduction of what the Senses perceive in Nature through the veil of the soul.” —Edgar Allan Poe


Twenty Years Ago


Time played tricks on him whenever he stood in front of the easel. Hypnotized by the rhythm of the brush on the canvas, by one color merging into another, the two shades creating a third, the third melting into a fourth, he was lulled into a state of single-minded consciousness focused only on the image emerging. Immersed in the act of painting, he forgot obligations, missed classes, didn’t remember to eat or to drink or look at the clock. This was why, at 5:25 that Friday evening, Lucian Glass was rushing down the urine-stinking steps to the gloomy subway platform when he should have already been uptown where Solange Jacobs was waiting for him at her father’s framing gallery. Together, they planned to walk over to an exhibit a block away, at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

I have two jobs. Half the time I’m an author and the other half I run Authorbuzz.com –- the first marketing company for authors. Having a split personality of sorts, the marketer me is thrilled for the opportunity to interview the author me.


Marketer: What aspect of being an author do you love the most?

Author: The disappearing act. One second I’m me sitting down -– the next I’m gone and then a few hours later I come to.