Gaga’s in the office!

It’s hard to contain the excitement in the Essential penthouse when we hear the sound of labouring breath on the approach to our top floor apartment, accessed only via several flights of stairs (or over rickety Clerkenwell rooftops). Not because we rarely get visitors, because we do, often. Honest. (And they’re not all looking for the ladies’ toilet, either.) No, the reason we get excited when we hear someone approaching who sounds out of breath it’s most often because they are carrying something heavy: books, in their fifteenth century format.

Gaga coverBooks are hefty—especially the kind we like to make—and they take some effort to transport in boxes of 20 or so, which is usually how they arrive here. This week we have been delighted to receive two boxes of advance copies of our Gaga book, and a thing of rare beauty it is, too, as befits the Upper West Side Pop Princess herself.

Once the conveyor of the boxes has been given oxygen, a cocoa leaf and sent on his merry way, the top of the first box is ripped away and we all inhale that unmistakable odor of fresh books. It’s impossible to explain in any satisfactory terms the olfactory sensation given by freshly printed books, but it compares favourably with the moment when the microwave door swings open on an Wiseguys anchovy Pizza.

After we’ve all fumbled our own copy of the glossy tome onto our desks, in the silence which followed as we pored over every page,  you could hear the shriek of a police siren in W6 from our EC1 address. Although to be fair, you can hear that any day and any time. The consensus of opinion here is that the book is good. Hopefully our cousins in America will feel the same way when they ripped the top from the box of their advance copies. We’ll let you know.