While I wrote the email, and checked over the document, Nikos was very busy. I could hear kid bustle. He asked me to look at his room, but I was busy. Back he went.
When I finished, I shuffled into the bedroom, and was astonished by what I saw. A fully-arranged 'book launch'. White Woofy sitting at the front, with Rabbit, watched by a crowd of teddies (all with tickets, of course).
Nikos knows about book launches, because he recently went to Maria Tumarkin's, for Otherland. I didn't think he was paying attention. Clearly he was. When I spoke of Maria last night, it obviously percolated in his mind. So while I sent a manuscript (one end of the literary ladder) he was launching a book (the other end).
Nikos is not yet five years old. And here it is: the ordinary, everyday literary world - not distant glamour or corporate mechanics, but the sort of thing one does first thing on a Monday morning.
Bourdieu would have a field day. (Bourdieu. Field. Tee hee.)