You can come out and see me at these locations!
Seriously, people! I beg of you, come out!
See, as you may know–as I have posted here before–book tours are not easy on me. I like travel, but I don’t like airports (Does anyone like airports?) And I am pretty introverted and while I like hanging out with people, I need time to recharge. Weekend at a con? Easy! On a two week book tour…not easy. And I will be in an airport literally every day and a different hotel all but two nights.
The end result, after about two days, is that even though all the people I meet are very nice, I am thrust into a weird alternate universe where I live on planes and in hotels and I am having the same conversations over and over again with different bookstore staff and the strategic small talk reserves are running low and–this is the rough bit–everybody somehow thinks I am a Respectable Children’s Book Author and I cannot blow my cover.
By the fourth day, I start to get seriously homesick for that other life where I am just some weirdo with a garden and a couple of podcasts who writes more than is healthy about wombats, and the media escorts are saying things like “Why don’t you just sit here for a little bit and you don’t have to talk to anyone, and can I get you some tea, honey?”
So this is where I am begging you to come out, because you guys are my life line. Talk to me about gardening or awful prepackaged food or kingfishers or the Corn God rising mad from the fields or Pokemon Go and it will be like I am in my real life again for a minute and I will be less homesick.
Honestly. I know this sounds pathetic but at the last book tour people kept coming out at the stops and talking to me about–oh, butterflies and honey and I got a stuffed moth and it meant so much to me. I got to be normal for a little bit. As normal as I get, anyhow. I am bad with names, but my head is full of person-with-Digger-omnibus-and-shirt and nice-women-with-poison-oak-honey and person-who-gave-me-Moth-Bob and person-who-drove-in-at-the-last-minute-a
Just don’t blow my cover. For some reason, the authorities think I am a good influence on the youth of today, with the reading and the empowerment and the vocabulary building, and if nobody tells them that I have no idea what I’m doing, I may get to keep this writing gig for a few more years.