(1) Yes, all participants were required to wear zombie makeup and dance to Michael Jackson’s greatest hit. Why do you think it’s called Thrillerfest? Then, at the awards banquet, we broke into the gang fight from “Beat It.” And my Dutton table totally thrashed all the other publishers. Marcus Sakey fights like a pit bull, and you should never take on Raymond Khoury when he’s armed with a dessert spoon.
(2) Spotted outside Grand Central Terminal: Clive Cussler getting his shoes shined.
(3) Yes, I really did see a gal strutting along 42nd Street in a gold tube top, hot pants, with a lemon-yellow mohawk — and about 80 years under her belt. It was awesome.
(4) Best moment: Seeing my son’s face when he realized the guy across the room was R.L. Stine — and that he could thank him, in person, for writing Goosebumps.
(Obligatory view from my hotel: looking west up 43rd Street toward the Hudson.)