Six Degrees of Separation

Last week an acquaintance invited me to a book group sponsored by the local newspaper. A small, dedicated bunch of bibliophages, they gather monthly in a member's home to eat, drink and discuss the latest read. This month's gathering was unusual because the book's author was there to mange potluck with the rest of us while discussing his writing life.

The selection was a 348-page tome of his foot trek around the Mediterranean. A professional journalist, and ex-patriot for more than 30 years, he'd now returned home like his mythical wandering muse Odysseus. He said this return was to establish a base camp from which to venture forth, finish his final trek and tie it all together (known in the book world as a sequel).

Although not formally introduced at the time, we'd attended the same meditation group six months earlier. I hadn't seen him before or since and on this evening he approached me, extended his hand, and introduced himself. He was friendly, so I chatted away about coincidental connections I knew we shared.

For instance, the fact that my husband's first wife later went on to marry his brother (something I discovered one day when my husband and I were talking about writing and he mentioned that his ex-wife's brother-in-law had just published a book).

And that we knew some of the same magazine people. Remarkable, given that he's a globe-trotting (100+ countries) journalist and author and my steadiest stint in the publishing world was moonlighting as an unpaid film reviewer for an independent arts and music monthly almost two decades ago.

Nonetheless, when I was in college I had worked as an editorial intern for a women's sports and fitness publication where the editor-in-chief and managing editor had both come from established New York magazines to launch the west coast upstart. It was a good gig and the editor invited me to return after college. Instead, I pursued other paths that took me away from writing.

Recently I Googled their names to see what had become of them. What they'd become is unarguably successful. One is now head of one of the largest media entertainment empires in the U.S., the other a Senior VP at a leading publication for retirees. This trekking author announced that he'd worked with one when he penned a celebrity gossip column and had recently become a Facebook friend of the other. (Oh, the serendipity of the Internet).

When he asked what I did, I explained that I was in transition from a recent career evaporation and was doing some writing again. He asked what I was working on and I told him a profile of an author friend that would be published later this year. Turns out, he went to the same A-list university as my writer friend. And they know each other.

I also nodded in the direction of the book group leader, the marketing director of the local newspaper, and told him I was considering writing for the paper's new women's magazine (really a glossy niche marketing tool disguised as a magazine and from which I hadn't yet had a formal invitation). As he munched distractedly on some leftovers, someone else asked him a question, signaling my cue to exit.

What were the gods trying to tell me, I wondered. Was it that I was a schmuck for having strayed from the writer's path? Was it that there was some truth to the idea of six degrees of separation? Or, was it simply that when the evening is done, you pick up your fruit salad bowl and trek homeward?

I'll let you know what I discover...