New York Trilogy by Paul Auster

I have an “interesting” face. It was about 15 years ago during a lunch. It was long enough ago for there to have been drink taken before sparkling water and abstinence equaled professionalism. Rather than being able to write professionally after an aperitif and half a bottle of claret. So I guess he looked at my face with its (slightly) broken nose, one bigger eye than the other and the large ears of a far older man and thought “nice dimples.” I’ve always liked his books. They’re interesting too.