Staying with my brother and his fiance in Berkeley was a great pleasure. Had some wonderful blasts from the past at my readings at Booksmith and Dog Eared- no embarrassing attendance levels. Took a break from reading to attend Lorri Elder’s beautiful wedding. Then down to LA to spend a day on the beach (completely alone. Apparently my idea of beach weather is not a Los Angelean idea of beach weather.) A great book party organized by Stacy Bierlein, a fun trip to Palm Desert, where, thanks to Tod Goldberg, an attentive crowd awaited. Back to Los Angeles, where I finally had the experience every writer dreads: a reading where no one shows up.
That’s not completely true. Two friends showed up, but they both had to leave before the scheduled reading time. There were mitigating circumstances: it was a Friday night. It was Los Angeles, and there had been Prop 8 protests clogging the streets. I was, frankly, relieved. I signed stock and went to dinner.
In the Los Angeles airport I experienced a pang of homesickness and nearly boarded a plane for Newark. But I held firm and traveled to Portland for the Wordstock Festival. I first read with Richard Lange, the imminently talented short story writer. Unfortunately, we were reading at the same time as Alison Bechdel, who siphoned off all the dykes to watch out for. I also participated in a panel with Russell Perreault on marketing.
I got to spend time in a swanky hotel, and also with Katie Feiertag, who apparently goes by Kate now that she’s no longer 7 years old.
Then to Seattle, where Leah Jacobs babysat me along with her gorgeous daughter Simona. Afterwards, I spent the night at Jen Graves and Patrick’s house (adorable… hot tub in the backyard. I highly recommend it!).
Finally, I boarded a plane for New York City. Lord, it’s good to be home. I really needed new clothes.
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