Home Again, Home Again

ACK!! The second leg of my U.S. ASHES tour is over!  ACK!! Where did the time go? You guys out Seattle-way, I had been so psyched, but given the teachers’ strike, a visit will have to wait for another time.  Still, I’ve truly enjoyed my time on the road.  Sure, I’m happy to have worked my way home to pet cats, feed the husband, down a martini, think about garden winter prep and—most importantly—gear up to work on a new novel.  (I got, like, these three books just BEGGING to see the light of day.   Picking which to do first will be tough.)

Then again, I’m not truly done-done. Our own Next Chapter Books and school visits await.  I head for England and Ireland the day after.  Thirty-six hours after I hit this side of the pond again, I’ll have several more events, both in Wisconsin and Illinois, that will keep me busy through the end of October.

Even though I missed being home . . . I really enjoyed my time on the road.  All things being equal, the tour’s been a real eye-opener and I think I’ve learned a fair amount, specifically:

1)    Booksellers rule.  No matter how big the author, if they’re hosting you, it’s because they love, believe in and are passionate about your book.  That they are gracious and genuinely nice to boot only makes me appreciate them more.  I have had the great good fortune to meet many wonderful booksellers and their staff on this tour, and they all deserve a round of applause.  Without them and their careful attention, I wouldn’t have met so many great kids or had such memorable school visits.  So, great big huzzahs and sloppy kisses to:

1. Stephanie, Brandi, and Robyn of Changing Hands (and Erin, the RH rep);
2. Emily of Lemuria Bookshop;
3. Jill, Ramona, and Paul of Square Books, Jr.;
4. The entire Malaprops staff;
5. Melissa, Holland, and Vicky of Puddin’head Books;
6. Becky and her fabulous daughter, Hallie, of Anderson’s Bookshop

2)    Give me a roomful of kids who care about books, and I’m a happy woman.  Some of the best memories I’ll take from this tour revolve around eager, enthusiastic teens who asked just the best questions and had some of the most surprising answers.  Like when I posed a question about the difference between surviving and living, and that quiet girl in the front row—the very-mannered kid who hadn’t uttered a peep the whole hour and change—raised her hand and said, “Living is when you have the time to do your nails.”   Go ahead and laugh, but think about it a second and you realize: she got it exactly right. All you guys at all the schools listed under (3)–I must’ve met and spoken to a couple thousand kids this trip, and believe me when I say that I enjoyed each and every one of you. Thanks for caring about books.

3)    Librarians work hard.  So do teachers.  They spend their time laying the  groundwork for your visit.  Listen when they speak and ask their advice.  They know their kids, and every school–and each class in that school–is different.  So thank you to the staff of:

Cactus Canyon Junior High, Apache Junction, AZ
Ridgeland High School, Ridgeland, MS
St. Andrew’s Episcopal Upper School, Ridgeland, MS
Oxford High School, Oxford, MS
Lafayette High School, Oxford, MS
Potterville High School, Potterville, MI
Haslett High School, Haslett, MI
Hillside Junior High, Salt Lake City, UT
Hancock High School, St. Louis, MO
Oakville High School, St. Louis, MO
Chicago Public Library/Greater Grand Crossing Branch, Chicago, IL
Drauden Point Middle School, Plainfield, IL
Scullen Middle School, Naperville, IL

4)    Members of the military are just as welcoming, gracious, and enthusiastic as I remember.  Seeing my old base again was a  real trip down memory lane. Special thanks to all military and civilian members who made my visits to Lackland AFB, Randolph AFB, and Fort Polk so memorable.

5)    And continuing along that line of thought: when you’re in military country, places where there are bases and a fair number of personnel, civilians can tell if you’re ex.  People guessed right about me all the time.  One very kind coffee vendor filled me in on the giveaway: my manners. They always thank you for your service (as they do to all active-duty members in uniform), and that invariably brought a lump to my throat.

6)    Which raises another question: I know how I feel when someone thanks me, but I do wonder how current members feel, especially when the majority are headed for Afghanistan.  I’m too polite to ask.  They also deserve their privacy and our respect.

7)    People who take the time to visit with you at a bookstore are there because they want to engage in a conversation.  Talk with  them, and you’ll be surprised what you find out.  Even if and when you go off-topic, who cares?  They’re in a dialogue with you and your book.  Enjoy.

8)    Escorts also work very hard to make sure you have the energy to do your job.  They are there to make your life easier.  Even if you think you can do it all yourself—and you probably can—let them take care of you once in a while.  It actually feels good.

9)    Your publisher cares about how you feel, too. Those little rah-rah missives mean a lot.

10)  Ditto your hard-working agent, who’s madly tweeting and talking you up.  Remember that if you’ve got a good one, she knows her job.  Listen to her when she gives advice.  It’s frequently spot-on.

11)  Write down the number of your hotel room.  There’s nothing more embarrassing than calling down to the front desk because your key card won’t work—and then discovering that you’re trying to get into the room you had two  cities back.

12)  Exercise regularly.  Those of you who do . . . you know why.

13)  Eat when possible.  I tried, sort of.  I often forgot.  There was just so much to do and always  something to gear up for.

14)  For God’s sake, go to bed at a decent hour.  I tried.  Sort of.  Thank you, Jenn, for screaming at me to turn off the flipping light.

15)  Talk to your main squeeze, significant other, or whatever every day.  Even if it’s only five minutes, do it.  They make it possible for you to do the work  you love—and keep you sane.

16)  Say please and thank you.  Often.  Everyone else is working just as hard as you
think you are.

17)  Have confidence that you know what you’re doing.  Your publisher hasn’t gone to all this trouble so you can make an ass of yourself.  If your publisher believes in you and your work, so should you.

18)  Twitter and Facebook can be lifelines.  All those people who pop in and give you a pep talk or tell you what fun they had?  Give them a round of applause.  Thank them.  They just told you that everything you said and did was worth their time and attention.  So, good job.

19)  Something will go fubar kaflooey.  Planes  will be delayed.  Your luggage will be
held hostage by the airlines.  (So, do carry a change of clothing and your toothbrush.  Two weeks on the road at a time, and I just couldn’t get it into one carry-on, not with my computer along, too.)  Roll with it.  There are just as many hapless passengers in the same boat.  If you miss something on the other end, relax.  People understand.

20)  When you do get home again, take a few seconds to reflect.  Turn off the engine, sit in the truck–and realize just how lucky you are.  Be grateful for all the hard work that went into putting you and your book forward. All those people–your publisher, your agent, the teachers, the kids, the booksellers, your spouse, your friends who were there to listen and offer support–they enrich your life and put wind beneath your wings.  Thank them–and then, thank them again.

So thank you, everyone.  Thank you, Jennifer Laughran, Greg Ferguson, Mary Albi, Katie Halata, Elizabeth Law, Doug Pocock, Robert Guzman, Deb Shapiro, Dean Wesley Smith–and David, of course.  Always, David.  Thank you all for making this possible.