Dave Eggers’ publicist (now there’s an easy job, one might suspect) is publishing her own book. And she’s pretty, says fluff piece! There’s virtually nothing substantive here about the writing. But being a likeable, pretty, well-placed publicist goes a long way towards making sure the buzz machine works in your favour.

EARLIER THIS MONTH at the Housing Works Gin Mingle, an annual event held at the roomy SoHo bookstore that brings together all manner of editors and literary types, Ms. Crosley did not have to introduce herself too many times. When she decided to go outside for a cigarette, it took fully six minutes and six conversations before she managed to get from the back of the store to the front door.

Which is not to say she is a social butterfly of indiscriminate taste. Though she claims to like everybody “unless they do some damage” to her, she does worry that life in this city has made some of the characters she interacts with a little, well, soulless.

“The really scary thing about New York is not the fear that everyone is hiding their true self,” she said. “The really frightening thing is that they’re not—that that’s it. That they’ve become whatever person they’ve built up.”

Ms. Crosley calls this the “empty mask” syndrome, and as you watch her move about at a publishing party, you can see that for all the energy and enthusiasm she projects, she maintains a strict, quiet skepticism as she works the floor.

At Housing Works, everyone wanted to say hi to her: Older women—agents, editors, etc.—spoke to her with a conspiratorial sort of excitement; young men approached her one after another and behaved very transparently.

“She’s very charming, isn’t she?” one of them said, looking over with appreciation at Ms. Crosley. “She’s kind of irresistible.”

Well, she is kind of pretty, in a non-Lisa Loeb way…. hm…. ooo…. mmm… … … … … … !!snorkbluk!!–What the?! WAIT! Don’t anybody let me fall asleep again in this fluffy field full of poppies!!!