On the Road Again
So here I am. Today is the first day of the three week road show for the new book. I am excited. However, I’m not supposed to admit that I can’t wait to go. Authors are supposed to moan and bemoan the travails of being on the road and the bad coffee and cramped plane seats and long delays and stiff hotel sheets and the concerns about getting some illness from shaking all those hands.
But I actually love the meeting people part in the book signings and the Q & A. The whole last chapter of “Perfectly Imperfect” grew out of all of the stories that people shared with me on the road for “In an Instant.” The chance to connect with folks all along the road is almost like the battery charger I use for my cell phone. it energizes me. I draw something from it.
My dirty little secret is that I tend to get lots of writing done on the road. The entire “Perfectly Imperfect- A Life in Progress” rough draft was written on planes and hotel rooms and trains during the book tour for the paperback version of the first book.
I know that seems counter-intuitive. But all of you mothers out there will know and understand how little one can actually accomplish at home in the way of personal reflection. Parts of this new book were written between microwaving oatmeal for breakfast and looking for soccer cleats. And in this way I have mastered the art of ADD writing.
So the thought of heading to an airport today– despite missing my family — is actually a quiet relief. I will have only myself to think about for five days– until I return home on Friday to a pile of mail and permission slips, phone calls to return and emails to grind through.
I’ll try to post some of my doings on Twitter– Lord, I am trying to embrace this new technology as they tell me this is the wave of the future. But I don’t think I’ll be blogging here this week. But i always love ot hear form you– even if I don’t get back to you right away. And for that– I hope you will excuse me.
Right now- there are two dahlia tubers to plant and the sun is out. The dogs are walked and I have to figure out how to squeeze a week’s worth of clothes into one carry on. The last time I checked my suitcase, the airline broke my supposedly indestructible Tumi bag. The handle became stuck halfway up and so I dragged my bag through security and around the airport and hotels as if I were bent like the Hobbit. No more checked luggage. Who cares if I look the same in Kansas City as I do in Chicago and then Detroit? I promise to wear clean undies.