Yes, I know - blogging is so 2003. Nevertheless, here you are… and here we go!
I woke up today and was 35. (You're not supposed to put that kind of info out on the Internet, but Equifax has already scrawled my data on every virtual truck-stop toilet wall from here to China, so whatever.) I would like to celebrate by taking off the professional enthusiast's hat for a minute and indulging in some reflective realness.
Read MoreMan, I'm going to regret writing this. But here goes.
Sooner or later, we all have to take a turn defending the status quo. And it sucks.
Y'know, it's always a strange experience coming back from a convention. Kind of feels like going home from Hogwarts for the summer. There was this magical place, full of fantastic people and all the most delightful conversations... and now I'm back here in the real world, belatedly plugging back into the news, the inbox, and the Face-feed, and y'all - I'm not sure who started what, but absolutely EVERYONE is pissed off about something. I swear this happens every time.
Read MoreOkay, so you know that whole thing about karma: whatever it is you dump out into the cosmic ocean on a daily basis will eventually wash back up at your front door. I can't say for sure that it's true, but I have been striving (however imperfectly) to pour out Exxon-Valdez quantities of love and realness and radical generosity. Helps cut down on water weight, if nothing else.
Read MoreNot gonna lie, y'all. Lately it feels like we're living under a darkening sky - so many people in such dire straits - and even the best acts of solidarity seem microscopic compared to the enormity of the need. I've really enjoyed my little tornado alley tour, but it's hard not to feel like the whole exercise is a bit privileged and frivolous. Who can get worked up over the finer nuances of playing with story-barbies when the whole world is underwater, on fire, or both?
But I just got this beautiful message from a beautiful person whom I met on the tour, and she said it would be all right if I shared a part of it here.
New proposition: instead of naming hurricanes on an alphabetical boy/girl system, let's call them according to whatever will appropriately intimidate the people who need to evacuate. If we had called this one Hurricane Post-Game Traffic, Texas would be deserted clear up through Abilene.
Read MoreGuys. Guys. In the past 24 hours, I've driven 900 miles, given two presentations, and gone eclipsing with the hedonists of Hebron, Nebraska. Needless to say, my death is now imminent. But before I go, I need to tell you something. Come closer. Are you listening?
Read MoreThe Tornado Alley Tour has begun!
And you know - there may come a day when I am sick to death of going places, but I don't think I will ever stop being bowled over by the opportunity to be a guest in someone else's life. It is just such a thrill and a treat, y'all - to spend a day living in an alternate timeline, if you will.
At times like this, when emotions are running high and our national jimmies are thoroughly rustled, I find it worthwhile to ask: "What is is the hardest, bravest thing I could do right now?"
That is sometimes a hard question to answer.
Listen, y'all. I can get down with left-coast libertines. I love the weather - the food - the public transit - the weather - the creative scene - and the weather's not bad either.
But it's time to get back to my roots. My people. My time zone. And that's why we're hitting the road and doing it:
Read MoreYou know that thing, where somebody’s clock runs out and then we all get together and talk about how cool and rad they were, and how much we enjoyed them and what a difference they made in our lives?
It’s pretty much the most bass-ackwards thing ever, and I’m not up for it. Present tense verbs, people. We have them for a reason.
So apparently there's this rule in improv comedy: whatever bizarre scenario your partner invents, you don't refute it. The answer is always "yes, and..."
I have been getting a lot of mileage out of that idea, especially when I travel. "Hey, will you hold this snake?" "Sure thing!" "Should we head over to the Makeout Room and listen to some X-rated slam poetry?" "Uh, yeah!" "Want to shack up in my auntie-in-law's spare bedroom and then have birthday okra for breakfast?" "Boy, do I!" (It was phenomenal, by the way.)
I don't know why, but I'm having a really hard time taking off the red hat and being a real person again. It is just such a thrill to go out into the world to delight and disgust the unsuspecting masses - and SO hard to go back to all those other less-fun feelings that you just can't put off forever. Fear and sadness are dragging me something fierce today.
Read MoreOkay, so I just finished my first-ever "master class retreat" in beautiful sunny Eugene, Oregon. It kind of wrecked me. The students were phenomenal. I have a massive girl-crush on the organizer. And getting to spend four whole days training up a bona-fide word-slinging *squad* has ruined me for everything else. It's weird and gross and lame to admit this, but being the big name on the marquee is a whole new level of ego BDSM.
Read MoreOkay. I've spent a week hiding out at an undisclosed location in the Oregonian hinterlands, mending dented promises and waiting for my words to grow back. Now the results are in: Oregon is officially better than you.
Don't feel bad. It's better than me, too.
So there was this one time when I was visiting my grandmother up in Oregon, and all of us ladies went out to lunch together at Shari's. She ordered the nachos (an appetizer) and got an ENORMOUS plate of chips and cheese - enough for any five ordinary humans to eat.
Read MoreJust now home from the Houston Writers Guild Conference. Tired enough to sleep in lead boots, but I feel like I just ditched a glass slipper.
Read MoreWe wrapped up the spring program of the DFW Writers Bloc this afternoon with a wonderful presentation by Annie Neugebauer. The Writers Bloc is part of the DFW Writers' Workshop, and is facilitated by our fantastic hosts at North Lake College. It's been wonderful to see this tiny little program grow and come into its own over the past year, and we're really excited about doing even more with the WB's summer programming.
But the person I keep meaning to thank is this one in the picture here - Marsha Hubbell.
You may have heard me describe myself, very modestly, as “simply the finest human being who has ever lived.”
That is no longer true.
I miss regular life. I miss sleeping through the night and not needing 5-hour energy to get through the day. I miss wearing my smaller clothes and caring about what I eat. I miss going to movies and baking funny cakes and being a good friend. I worry about what will happen at next week's doctor's appointment, and I feel guilty for letting my haphazard book promotion efforts lapse. I'm afraid maybe they'll cancel the UK edition of the last book because the sales haven't been good enough. I worry sometimes that I'll never have the wherewithal to write another book, or that nobody will want it if I do.
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