I pulled a muscle or popped a tendon in my foot, so I'm hobbling. But it can't slow me down now! When we last spoke, I was on my way to breakfast with movie folks, and I still can't say much about that. Sped to San Diego, where it was wall-to-wall bodies in Warwick's Books. People bought eveything in stock, even the employees' own copies. There were 20 or so folks left without books, and the staff broke open a box of bookplates and I signed those. It was amazing. Family and friends--the back of the room was a Clairemont High School reunion. In the morning, it was the Urrea Family blitz of an IHOP (and Bella Luna Bokks' Tony Delcavo, on an expedition from Colorado). Off again, speeding to the airport: Tucson, rental car, can't remember what we did. The reading was smaller than the apocalyptic bashes in Cali. Sunday was one of those futile book tour moments you dread: we got Brian Laird and drove to Phoenix. Three hours. The bookstore had put an ad in the papers saying my reading was the next day. Oops. Some friends had worried that the coyote gang working in Phoenix might come gunning for me, so they probably lurked around the store feeling dismayed on the wrong day! Five people showed up. We had a nice visit, then we drove three hours again. That night, it was my privilege to attend Humane Borders' fundraiser, and I was happy to be able to sell a big stack of books for Reverend Hoover.

Chicago on Monday. Cab to the house, jump in the car, drive back downtown at top speed for a radio interview at WBEZ. Airport Tuesday to NYC. I had a gig at NYU. Airport Wed., back to Chi. Radio interview. Reading at the Mexican Fine Arts Museum. Airport yesterday, to Seattle. Cell phone newspaper interviews. Airport today, to San Francisco. Ha! The whole time, I remember that I used to cook doughnuts in a late night shop!

It's my week of making believe I'm in Aerosmith.


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