The Jetsons reference above is due to the fact that tomorrow is the first of December. WHAT? I honestly feel like George on that outside treadmill, running like crazy, unable to get off. (If you have no idea what I am talking about, you are probably much younger and cooler than me. But still, get on over to YouTube and find a clip of The Jetsons. We’ll wait. Okay, back now? Good.)I was having a hard enough time with the fact that it was somehow Thanksgiving, but now we have Christmas to deal with? Yikes.

That said, Thanksgiving WAS nice, spent with family, stuffing my face. My dressing turned out REALLY well (although how can you go wrong with butter and bread crumbs? I’ll tell you how—you can’t) and we had enough leftovers to indulge for days afterwards. I have to say, hosting is MUCH harder than it looks. You have to keep people entertained and somehow have all the food ready at the same time WHILE smiling. Whoa. The turkey came out a bit late, and nobody had room for my pie until later, but these are little things. Also, my daughter had such an epic meltdown I basically had to throw her into her bed before bursting into tears myself. But hopefully I won’t remember that part. Anyway, onward!

I want to spend the rest of this holiday season in the mindset of gratitude. Not thinking about gifts or stuff but people and good deeds and good things. In a couple of weeks, I’ll be participating in the Chapel Hill Holiday Parade, riding on the Dessen Racing Float. I am SO SUPER PUMPED for this. The last time I was in the parade I was about five and a member of the Tarheel Twirlers. I twirled my little white baton down the entire parade route, never ONCE taking a break in the wagon provided for that purpose. (My dad loves to tell this story. If you ever meet him and mention parades, you’ve been warned.) We’re going to throw candy and hand out stickers and basically just get our holiday spirit on. And I will be posting pictures. Again, you’ve been warned.

Before that, though, I’m heading up to New York for a couple of days of fun and seeing friends. I will leave my book tour shoes and reading copy at home, for once, which will be awesome. A work-free trip! I also will be making a sign to hold up while I stand outside of the Good Morning America studio on Wednesday morning, a week from today. I am trying to think of what I want to say. Maybe something about NC? Or YA? I think I kind of scared Josh Elliott, the news anchor, with my enthusiasm about my visit. He made a joke about having extra security when I tweeted I was coming. Whoops! Let it be said I am not a crazy dangerous stalker. Just a big fan. Holding a sign. And most likely getting there at 6am so I can score a good spot. I am SUCH a nerd.

I have to say, though, my heart kind of broke today when I was watching because you know who was there, at GMA, outside the studio, being interviewed within REACH of the place I plan to be next week? Taylor Kitsch, aka Tim Riggins from Friday Night Lights. SA-WOON! If I had ONLY planned my trip for one week earlier, I might have gotten to see him. Can you even IMAGINE my GMA and FNL worlds colliding? I think my head might explode. Which would really scare Josh Elliott, so I suppose it’s a good thing it didn’t happen. But still. You all KNOW how much I love Friday Night Lights. I know, I know, he’s all John Carter now. But he will always be Riggs to me.

Then again, I don’t have to go to New York to meet famous people. This past weekend, on Small Business Saturday, I went to my local indie bookstore, Flyleaf Books, to do some early shopping. And LOOK who I got my picture with. Okay, it’s not Riggins. But to my daughter, even better:

Yes, that IS Llama Llama. In his red pajamas. Doesn’t get much cooler than that.

Okay, it’s 4:42 and almost dark here. December, you can come on in, if only because in 21 days we’ll get more light…..

Have a good night everyone!

Okay, so it’s the day before Thanksgiving. The busiest travel day of the year. A day when no breadcrumbs or russet potatoes are safe. It’s also the first time in six months I’ve looked ahead at the calendar and not seen one single event to promote What Happened to Goodbye. That, I am especially grateful for.

Don’t get me wrong, I had a blast on the tour and at all the conferences. In fact, this last trip was especially awesome. First, there was the Miami Book Festival (my first time!). I got in late Friday night, exhausted, and checked into my hotel. Because my mom is a New Yorker, I have always been taught that the very first thing you do when you get into your hotel room is lock the door, both the deadbolt AND that thing you swing across to keep it from opening, period. I did this, then went to brush my teeth. A moment later, I heard someone trying to open the door. (Thanks, Mom!) I crept closer. “Yes?” I called out, in my most brave voice (not very brave). “Yes,” a man’s voice replied, “can I come in, please?” I considered this. “Um, no,” I said. “But I think this is my room?” he said, politely. Then I looked through the peephole to see a very distinguished gentleman, with his luggage, that I recognized had been checking in right beside me at the front desk. Whoops! Within moments, we realized we were both authors there for the Festival and they’d put us in the same room. I called down to the desk, where they said according to their records, we were supposed to share . “Um, no?” he and I said together. Then he very gallantly went downstairs and sorted the whole thing out while I babysat his suitcase. He was so lovely and pleasant and I know he probably would NOT want me to say his name here on this silly blog. But he wrote a book about Catherine the Great that has been very well reviewed and now I will be reading it. See how that all works out?

Miami was FULL of huge famous authors. I basically sat in the Author Room and gaped, which is what I do at most festivals. I met Dave Barry, Ridley Pearson and Edna Buchanan, and was within arm’s lengths of Colson Whitehead AND Amor Towles, whose book I was devouring the entire time I was down there. I had a great panel with Colleen Houck, Debbie Viguie and Nancy Holder, then signed books for lots of great Miami readers. Walking around afterwards, I had a photo op with someone who is SERIOUSLY famous, especially in my house:

Why, yes, that IS Sister Bear from the Berenstein Bears. My daughter still can’t believe I actually met her. Snaps for me!

That night, I went to the author cocktail party, which was at a very swanky club. I was completely out of my element and knew NO ONE. I swear I feel like such a loser at things like that. At YA festivals, I know folks, but here I was just on my own and really feeling it. Then, as we all stood around outside waiting for the place to let us in (did I mention I was alone?) a very nice guy came up to me. “You should come stand with us,” he said, and gestured for me to follow him over to where he was standing. Then he introduced himself and the woman he was there with, and just like that, Matt Phelan and Cheryl Lu-Lien Tan became my new best friends ever. I hung with them all night and will never forget how they made me feel so welcome. This is why I love the book world. Good people are there.

The next morning, bright and early, I headed to the airport and Chicago for the ALAN conference. While at Miami Bookfair I knew few people, this was like old home week, from the second I walked in the door and spotted my publicist. Yay! I had enough time to go shopping at Saks with the amazing Jenny Han (who tried on Prada pumps that were so beautiful they belonged in a museum) before heading to the ALAN cocktail party. Going there from the Miami party, I felt like the Bee Girl from that Blind Melon video. All my friends were there! Like:

Megan McCafferty, who basically gave me JUST the advice I needed, exactly when I needed that. Yet another reason she is so freaking awesome. Also, she’s seen Barry Manilow in concert multiple times, just like me. Is it any wonder we are friends?

And also:

John Green and M.T. Anderson! Shortly after this picture was taken, I was gesturing while talking and whacked a woman standing beside me in the face. I was mortified. Of course, John Green THEN had to tell everyone I was walking around the party “bitch-slapping” people. This is how rumors get started, people. I swear, I just wave my hands when I talk!

I also got to see Sara Zarr and the amazing Lauren Myracle. And, for the record, did not smack either of them:

The next day, I gave my FINAL talk, a short speech at the ALAN conference, which was a great place to wrap it all up: you can’t find any people who love YA lit more, I swear to you. And they didn’t even mind that my speech was a little short. Better than too long, I guess, right?

Once the speech was done, I signed books and gave my super publicist Elyse, who engineered every step of this crazylong tour, a high five. DONE!  Then I celebrated on Michigan Avenue with sushi and this:

And lo, it was good.

So now here I sit, my book tour shoes tucked away in the closet, my writergirl clothes at the drycleaners for the last time in awhile. I have dressing to make, a pie to prepare, and a kid that is FINALLY getting over the cold she caught two weeks ago. And yes, I am thankful, SO thankful, for all the wonderful stuff that I got to do in the last six months. And equally thankful to be here at home, finally.

I hope that you ALL have a great holiday, surrounded by the ones you love. I wish you good food and good health and lots of laughs. And if you are traveling today, I wish you short lines at the airport, nobody pushing back in the seat in front of you AND if someone does appear at your door with the same room key, that they be as gentlemanly as my visitor was. But: do the deadbolt and flip that lock, just in case. My mom says so!

Have a great holiday, everyone!

 

 

…but I was in Canada and they were asking me about snack food and Twitter! What I was supposed to do?

An Indigo Minute with Sarah Dessen 

P.S. I really have no issue with Air Canada. My flights were just all wonky getting up there. Way back: smooth as butter.

P.P.S. Yes, ideally would have said the Dalai Lama was my ideal Twitter follower. But it is what it is.

P.P.P.S. Yes, I really need to get back to work…..

 

Have a great day, everyone!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All right, I know I’ve been super MIA from the blog lately. Blame it on the fact that…well, honestly, I don’t even know what to blame it on. Shorter days? The fact that I’m (trying to begin) writing again? Or the oncoming influx of the holidays AND the meal I, for some reason, decided to cook for my ENTIRE FAMILY on Thanksgiving? Could be a combo of all three. I’ve also been thinking about purses a lot. All of this is very time consuming.

Now, though, I MUST get back into work mode and pull myself together for the final trip of this Book Tour That Never Ends (once it’s over, though, I guess I have to stop calling it that?) Anyway, this weekend I’ll be at the Miami Book Festival, where I’m doing a panel with Colleen Houck and Nancy Holder and Debbie Viguie.  That’s Saturday, Nov. 19, 12:30 p.m., Room 1164 (Building 1, 1st Floor). (Thank you, cut and paste!) I am not sure if there is a signing afterwards or not? Will let you know when I hear. Then, I am off to the ALAN conference in Chicago, where I’m attending the annual cocktail party (always a blast and I see so many good friends!) and then speaking Monday at the conference itself. Then it is BACK on a plane and home, hopefully in time to wish my husband a happy birthday before I collapse into bed. And then get up the NEXT day to start thinking about turkey, stuffing and all that stuff.

I will try to blog again this week when I get caught up. HA! I just laughed out loud writing that. But still: will try.

 

Have a good night, everyone!

This weekend, my husband is running his third marathon. I know. I do three miles and consider myself a rockstar, but it’s all relative, I guess. Anyway, it got me thinking about his FIRST one, way back in 2004, which was also in November. I was writing Just Listen at the time and REALLY struggling, and seeing all these runners put themselves to the ultimate test was a huge inspiration to me, just when I really needed it.

I also know a lot of people are doing Nanowrimo right now. I have not ever done it myself, but I always love this month of people writing novels, because I know it’s not just me banging my head against the wall (or keyboard, or whatever) at least for a few weeks. Comfort in numbers, and all that. Anyway, I figured I’d go back to my old blog over at Livejournal and find the entry I wrote, way back then. If you’re stuck, or struggling, maybe it will help. Also helpful, just so you know: chocolate and therapy. Works for me!

Okay, here it is. Remember it’s a few years old, hence the dated pop culture references. Also: yes, I watched Starting Over and LOVED it. Truth!

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I try not to write too much about my husband here, other than the occasional random comment or remark. Mostly this is because he is a private person, and would never have an online journal (he doesn’t even read this one, actually) and I try to respect that. When people ask about him, as they inevitably do now and then, I just say that he isn’t like me, has no desire to tell the world about his addiction to Starting Over or the O.C. or his shopping problems or whatever.

But. Every now and then, I feel it’s okay to tell you something, as I do today, and that is this: this weekend, in Richmond, VA, my husband ran his very first marathon. He’s been training for over a year, and he really just wanted to finish, preferably under four hours. He came in at 3:50:24. It was so freaking exciting I can’t even tell you. And the best part was that I got to be there.

My job, during the marathon, was to function as both cheerleader (which meant standing at various points along the race, jumping up and down with this little clacker thing they gave me, which was very loud, clackety-clackety-clack, much better than clapping constantly) and supplier (which meant handing off bananas, water, etc, as he passed by at various mileposts). When we were planning all this, I figured I was all set: I had directions from the marathon organizers to three different mile marker places, complete with parking instructions. No problem. Yeah, right.

I am the first to admit I am navigationally challenged. I can get lost on my own street. But: these directions were NOT very good. I think maybe they were for people who, I don’t know, live in Richmond, and therefore could figure out that when they said to take a certain Parkway going East, but only North and South were actually available, which way to go. I found myself driving around Richmond for four straight hours, racing from one place to another, dodging fender benders, pedestrians, and blocked off streets. It was like extreme navigation. (And, irony of ironies, my own nav system was of no use, because so many roads were closed. Of course!) Plus, I was by myself, so I had no one to turn to and say, “Oh, $%#@&*! This can’t be the right road, can it?” Instead, it was just me, alternately cursing and on the verge of tears, tearing around a city I didn’t know. Clackety-clackety-clack.

It WAS great to see the marathon, though. I missed my husband at the first stop (&^%$#!) due to traffic, but caught him at the second, if just barely. (I also dropped one of his water bottles in the road, and it got run over, oops.) By the third, I’d wised up and realized that trying to go to where everyone ELSE was waiting for the runners was making things so much more difficult, so instead I just parked in this vacant lot, jumped a guardrail, and walked across the road to stand by myself and wait. So there I was, right before this big bridge and mile twenty, in the whipping cold, with my clacker (clackety clackety!), a one-girl cheering section. At the first couple of stops, people had seemed in good spirits. By now, you could see it was getting harder. Not so many smiles, plus it was freezing, and they were about to go over this long, cold bridge where the wind was going to be even stronger.

Standing there, waiting for my husband, I kept watching all these people go by, and I was clapping and clacking and trying to cheer them on, but feeling like it was slightly pathetic, since it was just me, and I couldn’t make all that much noise. But then I really started to think about it. I mean, I’ve never run a marathon (I don’t think I’ve ever run one mile, much less 26.2) but I have had times in my life when I’ve been facing something really hard that I’m not sure I can do. Like, I don’t know, writing a book on a deadline with a movie coming out and more pressure than I’ve ever felt in my life? And at that time, or times like that, just having one person believe in me maybe a little bit more than I did in myself at that moment often made all the difference in the world. So as I thought this, I started cheering louder. Alone, in the cold, on an overpass. “Keep it up!” I yelled, “You’re looking good, keep going!” A couple of people smiled and waved, so I kept going, shouting out everything I always wish I could hear when I’m up here in front of the screen, struggling: “You can do it, don’t quit!” “Great job!” I was making a total spectacle of myself, but people seemed to be responding, so I kept at it, jumping up and down, yelling. “Keep the faith!” I yelled, and just then, this man who was struggling past looked at me and said, “Thank you.” And then he kept going, up up up to the bridge. And I forgot, temporarily, about all the traffic crap and the cold and the frustrations of the day and just cheered for him even more. It was a nice moment. Clackety-clack.

The finish line was the best. Seeing all those people crossing, some smiling, some crying, overcome with emotion….it was really great. Wouldn’t it be great if, whenever you completed some big goal, you had a crowd of people there at that exact moment, cheering wildly? You can’t beat it. You really can’t.
***************

You know what? It’s all still true, too. Even as I sit here today, working on book ELEVEN, and watch the blinking cursor, feeling slightly panicked. Keep the faith. You can do it. Clackety-clack.

Have a good day everyone!