Tour, Travel & Musings Gastronomique

blog working!!

2008-07-06T18:48:00Z

At last!

Hello to everyone! I'm terribly sorry it's been awhile. First the blog was down and then, very sad news, Jeff's dad passed away. The last few weeks we've been with family, so blogging just wasn't going to happen. The Jeffrey is holding up well, as well as a person can when they lose their dad; thoughts for Jeff & his family are more than welcome. You guys are always so great about sending good wishes & vibes, and we always appreciate it. Anyway, thoughts to the Jeff.

Who now has a wretched cold and is a snotty little beast. Poor rat.

Meanwhile: I'm on a writing jag. Very inconveniently, people, it's poetry. What am I thinking? I have a novel to write, and the agent & I just might be plotting another nonfiction—I probably mentioned it, but it is VERY nascent at the moment, and who knows if it will go anywhere. Point being: I should be kicking out the fiction, and I've been bombarded by the poetry instead.

Note: No, I will not post any of it on here. Sorry!! But I can't—unpublished and therefore still uncopywritten, so no go. I'll let you know on the cold day in hell when I actually put it out there. In the meantime, I'm scribbling day and night. NO, NOT day and night, for those of you who worry yourselves silly about whether I'm getting enough sleep. I am, I assure you. Just hopping up early to get the scribbles down. I've spat out twelve new poems, or what might be poems, or what might be garbage, in the last month (one never knows), and I'm not sure the whole flood is done. I'm just at the edge of being ready to edit them into some kind of shape, with the help of the infamous Readers (esp the lovely Amanda, poet of Fargo, with whose work I'm madly in love—will post her blog if she'll let me—and the beloved Lora, poet of New York). By the way, turns out Fargo, North Dakota, has this shockingly hopping art scene—who knew? Art galleries, midnight readings—I only wish Minneapolis was so hot at the moment. It's gotten a little stuffy recently, but is picking up, especially the theater scene. Very cool. Just saw a production of Midsummer Night's Dream at the Guthrie—a completely wild take on it, and was transfixed, and got in a jolly argument with a friend who absolutely hated it. I love this stuff.

Reading at the moment: poetry. Of course. Someone start me a new poetry list. I'm running low, and have recently developed an annoyance, born of over-exposure, about some oldies I usually love. I need new blood.

Poetry having overtaken my writing time for the moment, it's also having that effect I love: woke up the other morning with two new scenes/sketches for the novel. Whee! You guys have no idea how heavenly it is to be back to work after tour. My life is now very dull; I get up and write, then I go to bed, with a few other things in between. I love life.

Have been hearing from readers, and appreciate all the letters so much. I do need to remind people, tho, that with the volume of mail, I just can't respond to it all. Also, I would gently remind folks that I can't take up personal correspondences and ongoing contact with readers.

I'm up in Detroit Lakes, Minnesota, which I know I mentioned last summer, in the fabulous/extremely weird Sunflower Cafe, which is somehow always staffed by about fourteen people, none of whom seem to be able to make a cappucino in under 15 minutes. I am cultivating patience and zen-ness. This is my father's family's old haunts, and reminds me of being a kid and running around all over town and leaping in the lake. The north is a gorgeous place in summertime, and everyone looks overjoyed to be wearing shorts. It's lovely to be up here, and I'll be heading back up from the city several more weekends this summer—will post from my favorite Sunflower Cafe table & let you know what's up.

Have missed you all, and many, many thanks for the great ongoing discussions on the board. You rock.

Cheers,
M

Oh for heaven's sakes!

2008-05-23T09:35:00Z

Hello all!

First off, mea mea culpa for my long absence. Second, I appreciate all the concern posted about whether I was in the HOSPITAL?? which I most certainly am not. I'm here in my office in my robe at the crack of dawn as usual. And yes, I just got back from Italy on Tuesday, and have more or less been crashing in and out of bed with radical jetlag since then, and have been totally incapable of finding my keyboard with both hands. But I'm back.

Italy was totally and completely incredible. I want to move there. RIGHT NOW. This is not a convenient or practical urge as, um, I live here. And The Jeff has a job he likes that is, um, here. So. That particular move is not in the immediate offing. It was Rome that just made me swoon. Milan was wonderful, Florence beautiful, but Rome was magnificent. We spent the one (tragic!) day we had there traipsing around the ruins of the Forum and the Colloseum (sp). Red poppies growing wild on the ground where Socrates got poisoned (and said some cool things). Gorgeous Mediterranean sky, tangerine and olive trees, St. Peter's, the Trevisi fountain, and the huge wild city all sprung up around it as if it was the most natural thing in the world to have a towering Latin-inscribed Pantheon in the middle of downtown. Now I am throwing myself into learning Italian, the most gorgeous language I have ever heard or had rolling around on my tongue (the seven or so words I know, that is, rolling around in there). I was told, thank you very much, that my "grazie" was perfect. Ha! How about THAT? Big stuff, no?

I also had 31 interviews, a debate, and endless dinners and lunches with important people whose language I sadly didn't understand. Twas intense. The Italians don't mess around. I fell madly in love with my publisher, who is brilliant. The cover of the Italian edition is just gorgeous. I bought a most splendid pen in a pen shop that had been there a hundred years, as well as some snappy scarves. I drooled on all the astronomically expensive clothes and shoes in Milan. My wallet suffered gravely from the fact that the American dollar is totally worthless internationally at the present time. I saw a staggering quantity of mind-boggling art, and was awed by the feel of being in cities that have been around for hundreds or thousands of years. But mostly, other than working madly, Jeff and I sat on the edges of piazzas and drank an unhealthy number of macchiatos and people-watched, which was smashing. Also, I slept like the dead, despite the fact that European hotel rooms are truly bizarre, and furnished with beds not intended for use by people with bad backs, or really backs of any kind. Nevertheless, I couldn't have been happier, and it was an incredible way to wrap up an incredible tour.

Next up: a radio drive-time tour (not sure which cities yet, but will let you know as soon as I've got the schedule), which is a thing where I sit in my office and talk on the phone and get confused about who I'm talking to and where on earth they are. This will be fun, though. And next week I'm writing the Vogue article, which I'm looking forward to as well. It's been AGES since I've done any magazine writing, and suddenly I'm overflowing with story ideas, most of which involve some poking around before I'm ready to write them. It's good to be back in the journalism groove. And, thank heavens, once the Vogue article is done, I can FINALLY get back to work on the novel. I'm just dying to dive in and get my hands dirty and bang it out. I sort of feel like a novel should be written on a typewriter. Ripping pages out of it with a flourish and so on. I will not be doing this. I am very attached to my totally trashed laptop, and on it I can do the all-important task of deleting in a fit of despair. Nah, I'm not despairing. I actually can't wait.

So, as you can see, I'm writing on this travel blog when I am not in fact travelling. This is because I have forgotten the password to my regular home-blog. This is somewhat like forgetting my own address while I was on tour, which I did. I will consult The Jeff and he will tell me how to get back on the regular blog, and you can find the next entry there. Which, I swear, will be next week.

Mike, I quit smoking.

Cheers to all!
Marya

My much-neglected blog!

2008-05-09T11:05:00Z

Greetings, everyone!

First of all, our apologies for the totally dated-ness of the website. It desperately needs an update, and we will do it as soon as we have, oh, five minutes in a row where it can get done. It's been slightly busy around here. So, my apologies, and it will be updated soon.

I'm here in Chicago for the last day, hopping in my car for the 8-hr drive back to Minneapolis tonight--whereupon Jeff and I will have a mad scramble to get ready for Italy. We're leaving tomorrow, and curiously have almost nothing prepared. There is packing. There is the acquiring of an Italian phrasebook. There are tickets to get to the places we want to see. There are hotels whose names I've forgotten but have written down here somewhere, I hope. There is the matter of many trains. Jeff is in charge of trains; I sincerely hope he's figured something out train-wise, or we'll be stranded in the Milan airport with our not-overweight luggage (NOL) trying to sort out how to get where we want to go, perhaps by roller skate. As for the luggage--in a devastating move, the airline industry has decided they will no longer check my vastly overweight luggage without charging me an astronomical fee to do so. This means maybe not so many shoes, and no stacks of books taking up half the suitcase. This will be something of an advantage; it's possible that now I will be able to actually lift my suitcase, which I suspect will be handy when we arrive (hopefully by train) in Lago di Como and take a boat to a little town and take a cab to an even littler town, which I suspect may have cobblestone streets. Which will be beautiful. And not super-convenient for the lugging of V(astly)OL anywhere. Ever tryed to drag VOL over a cobblestone street? Sounds like a good way to fall over, if you ask me. And then I'd probably break a heel.

I've had a most delicious week of work on the new novel. Which persistently and exasperatingly does not have a title. If you have any titles floating around, please feel free to suggest. I imagine this would be harder to do if you didn't know what the book is about; well, the book is about, um, America, war, the 20th century, fathers and sons, and some other stuff. "Fathers and Sons" is already taken, the title of Turgenev's 1862 classic. So that won't work. And no one will let me use the truly awful and baffling name I use for it in my head, which is the superb "The Rise and Fall of Arnie's Great Nation." Nope, sez the agent, editor, and publicist (who I have come to call the Trinity). Has to be something even slightly less totally obscure and semi-random. It's very weird for me not to have a title this far into work on a book. So I'm waiting to stumble upon it as I go. But, like I said, taking suggestions.

Work this week also entailed the trashing of a great big section I was working on, which was very satisfying. When you've written yourself into a corner and are completely despairing of ever getting out, it's hard to remember that you can, if you want, pitch it. Which I did. I am very pleased with this, and now, when I get back from Italy, I have a fresh clean slate on which to scribble the stuff that will actually work. Have I mentioned fourteen zillion times how weird writing a novel actually is? Very weird, with the feeling your way toward the story, brushing it off as if you're digging for fossils, watching it get clearer as you go, then occasionally writing yourself into a corner, where the only option is to trash what you've got. Which, as I said--highly satisfying. Now, onward with the better work.

Also, upon return from Italy, there will be an article to write for Vogue. Will let you know when it will run.

And as for Italy--man, they don't do things halfway over there. There are actually only three days of tour; these three days consist of back-to-back interviews for 12 hrs each day, a debate, some dinners, a plane ride or two, and various other. The US tour was a relaxing vacation by comparison. Whoosh. But the rest of the time we're there, we are (gulp) actually relaxing. I for one have forgotten what that's like or how to do it, and I suspect Jeff has as well; it may take us a few days of leaping and lurching and jumping at sudden noises to get the hang of it. I almost feel guilty for taking the days off, but that is so TYPICAL I can't even stand it. At this point, living in a hotel and out of a suitcase feels more normal than being at home. But soonish, I'll be home for a spell, and I'll go back to the regular blog unless I'm traveling.

For you UK folks—I believe Madness comes out today. For my friends in Italy, I think it's next week. It will be fun to see which countries buy it after that. Translation is such an interesting thing, and of course I am totally ignorant and speak no languages other than English and have no idea if any of the translations of my work make any sense whatsoever. You will all have to tell me when the book comes to your country. I'll keep you posted on that. (For readers interested in marvelous essays, and on the matter of translation, don't miss Milan Kundera's "Testaments Betrayed." His native language is Czech, but, after his exile to France in 1975, he began writing his books in French because the translations of his Czech-written works were so horrible. The book is about books written in languages twice removed from his native tongue, and it is completely fascinating.)

My friends, that's all I've got for today. I'll be posting as soon as I have internet access in Italy, and I can't wait to tell you what I see...and if I have any wits about me, I'll manage to post some pictures as well.

Cheers,
Marya

NYT Review #1!

2008-04-30T01:56:00Z

People! Check out today's New York Times review in the Science Times here:

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/29/health/29book.html?ref=health

Well, now that you've checked it out (go check it out!), you will understand why I didn't leave the house today. Does a review get better than that? How weird! So of course it weirded me out. So I stayed in the house. Like a weirdo.

Also up online, for those of you who missed the webcast on iDrea.tv: you can find it at

http://idream.tv/channel.php?ChannelId=7

...and if you have trouble opening the direct link, just go to

http://idream.tv

and tune into the SPORTS AND WELLNESS link.

Whoosh, what a day. Much uproar over the review, more excitement about the bestseller list, and I'm WIPED OUT!

More Friday morning...

Cheers!
Marya

Grey day at home

2008-04-27T20:44:00Z

...but improved by the presence of Madness at *16 (that means it's tied for 15) on the online NYT Bestseller List. The paper itself is a week behind the online edition. I don't even know why I thought to look today, because I thought it wouldn't be up until next week. But there I was, 4 a.m. and barely awake, and there it was, looking all official and so forth, and I nearly fell out of my chair. Hell of a way to start the day!

Got home yesterday afternoon, fell face-first into bed, and snored till it was nearly dark. Spent the rest of the day in a haze of half-asleep-ness and disorientation, woke up this morning pretty sure I was in New York, and since then have established that I am a) in Minneapolis after all, and b) the "end of tour" is a little misleading. I'll have a lot of media to do for quite a while still, and will post dates and times asap. Will also take down the tour schedule and get everything updated. Feels a little like striking the set after a show, or packing up Christmas, but also feels pretty nice to be home, I have to say. The dogs are duly excited, and have more or less moved into my lap. Jeff seems not to mind too much that I'm here, either, and is being good about it. So I'm listening to a little Frank Sinatra and looking out at the grey day with sleepy eyes, wondering if it's ever going to be spring again. However--and I will keep you posted on this--there are pale green buds on the lilac tree outside my front door, and the single yellow tulip that lives in my garden is showing the tips of its leaves.

I want to thank all of you who were so wonderful to come out to readings and events, traveling from near and far. It was so wonderful to meet all of you in person. And this entire experience--meeting people, hearing stories, giving hugs, having pictures taken--has been completely inspiring. I'll do my damndest to write you a new book to enjoy. (Back to work on that next week!) Being immersed in the world of readers (i.e. the world outside my messy office--which, thank you very much, is now spotless, thanks to a mad cleaning this moring) was heavenly, and showed me once again exactly why I write.

Ok, so for the new blogging schedule: I'll post at least 2x/week from here until further notice. I'd post more, but people, it's just not that interesting here in my head. Keep those conversations alive on the board--and for you lurkers, get registered and join the conversation. It's about time somebody posted about a book or two again. What are people reading? Has anyone started The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao (Junot Diaz)? I'm halfway through and loving it. I'll wrap that in a few days, then start in on Human Smoke: The Beginnings of War, the End of Civilization (Nicholson Baker) for another perspective on World War II, a subject my new book covers mid-way through. And I'm starving for some poetry. Suggestions? And since we did that Top Ten Songs (or was it artists? or albums?) a while back, somebody kick off a Top Ten Books. My #1 tie: Where the Wild Things Are and One Hundred Years of Solitude. Of course, by the time I post my list, those two will have changed...and A Supposedly Fun Thing I'll Never Do Again (David Foster Wallace) is up there as well...and The Screwtape Letters (C.S. Lewis)...but wait. No. #1 (and I mean this!): The White Album (Joan Didion). There. Somebody else take up the list.

Thirteen Things: A Weekly Tour Blog

1. Longest sixteen hours ever spent in a depressing hotel room: 2pm-8am, in L.A. on a Sunday, in a room with bare plaster walls, a bed with ugly bedspread, and (worst) a desk that was so high I had to put pillows on the chair to reach, resulting in the annoying thing where my feet don't touch the ground.
2. Most killer publication party ever thrown: Here in Mpls, thrown by my wonderful Mom & Pops--you really should have seen my shoes...
3. Shortest two days I wished were actually two weeks in a fabulous hotel room with three separate things on which to fall asleep: Fri-Sat in the fabulous Heathman Hotel in Portland, where I wrapped up tour with a FANTASTIC reading audience--but audience aside, the naps were really nice...
4. Wildest interpersonal event: having an awesome coffee with my mom's first husband, who is really exceptionally cool, and a former political reporter who's covered everything from the entire mayhem of 1968 to the 90s Desert Storm (from the Middle East), and whose stories I am DYING to record...
5-13 (sorry, I'm really, really tired). Best parts about tour: Meeting you.

Peace, and more this week.
M

MADNESS A BESTSELLER!

2008-04-24T14:59:00Z

Quick note (and I know I'm behind!! More soon!):

Madness is tied for #15 on the New York Times Bestseller List that will appear Sunday, May 4.

That's thanks to all of YOU. And how can I thank you enough?

*

Tomorrow's the last official day of hardcover tour. What a great way to go out! I'll post a proper blog Friday afternoon, then post a Finally Home blog this weekend. Can't wait to see everyone in Portland tonight!

Cheers,
M

Back on the road

2008-04-20T23:43:00Z

Hello all!

Sorry for the silence the past few days. I've been home in Minneapolis, which was heavenly and far too busy. By yesterday afternoon, though, I'd started to feel I was home for good, so this morning's 4:30 a.m. trip to the airport was a little alarming. What what? I thought I could stay in my pajamas...

It's a hazy day here in L.A. and I got to my hotel about 10 a.m., whereupon I promptly got back into my pajamas, to give myself the illusion that I was still home in my totally trashed office. Ach, the office. It now looks as if, by centrifugal force, it has collected everything on the planet and strewn it in towering piles all over the desks, chairs, floor, bookshelves, and windowsills. I don't totally know how it happened. The right side of my writing desk is covered with stacks of poetry books. There was a curious collection of buttons on the windowsill. The other desk has a pile of CDs on it so high you can't see the wall behind it. The floor is covered with books and boxes, purses and sweaters, and a variety of technological equipment which has some purpose only known to Jeff.

Minneapolis was a total riot, and here's a huge thank you to all the wonderful people who made it out for the reading and the webcast. (And I apologize to all the people who had to sit in the asiles at the reading.) Such a show of support from my hometown, and so many of my nearest and dearest, means the world to me. And special to all the people who came from such a long way away--you're the best. I'll have photos from the Minneapolis leg posted tomorrow.

So this week is the west coast whirlwind. L.A. today and tomorrow (reading at Vroman's in Pasadena, 7:00 p.m.), Seattle tomorrow (for a reading and talk at the Town Hall, 7:30 p.m.), San Francisco Wednesday (my other hometown--no matter how long I'm elsewhere, San Francisco is still where my heart lives--isn't there some terrible song about "left my heart in San Francisco"?)—for a reading at the Opera Place Books Inc., 7:00 p.m.), and finally Portland on Thursday, reading at Powell's Books, 7:00 p.m. Media this week will be up tomorrow.

Spring on the west coast--stepped off the plane into a world of hills (hills! I'd forgotten what they looked like--we don't have too many up in the north) covered with ivy, and those gorgeous spilling fuscia vines. Reminds me of a childhood running up and down those hills and climbing through the iceplant. Ok, no iceplant in L.A. But I'll see some in San Francisco. It's great to be back out here, and I can't wait to see all you the west coasters this week. I promise not to fall asleep at the podium mid-reading. Really.

Cheers,
M

WEBCAST TONIGHT 5:30 PM Central Time

2008-04-19T14:50:00Z

WEBCAST LINK

HOME!!!

2008-04-17T20:14:00Z

...at least for a couple of days!

Flew in yesterday morning, on a gorgous Minneapolis spring (!) day, and was whisked away from the airport (plech! airports) by the Lovely Ashley, my pal who occupies the top floor of my house (as opposed to the Mysterious Steve, who occupies one of the bedrooms--we have a bunch of recovering people who live here with us, which keeps us ALL sane--well, at least keeps me sane, and hopefully I am not making them INsane...), anyhoo, the LA and I went zipping home to immediately get to the matter of making a new mix. Have I previously mentioned my love of/semi-obsession with making mixes? WELL. As Mike mocked me for some months ago, I only came upon the modern invention of this "iTunes" thing in December, and it's all been downhill from there. This amazing discovery has led to the creation of a dozen or more TOTALLY fabulous mixes, if the LA and I do say so ourselves. We spend hours upon hours making them (this is on my days off, people, I don't just sit around making mixes all day between books), and they are made with such care and did I mention fabulousness I can't even TELL you. SO, given the total lack of days off for a couple of months here, we were much mix-starved, and went right home and spent the day making a truly marvelous mix. Have you heard of country music? WELL, some of us city people have only the dimmest idea that it exists, but now that I have been introduced, I'm hooked. You really ought to hear this thing we mixed yesterday. The Country Sentamentalist Mix--3 straight hours of the finest ultra-mushy country music around. Our mix fix taken care of for the moment (it won't last), we both collapsed at 9 p.m.

And then this morning I woke up and thought firmly, "Ok. I'm in Toronto." Then I was unsure, and looked around in the dark. And thought, "Ok. I'm in Boston." Wait. "I'm in Vermont." No, no. "I'm in New York." Finally I got out of bed and walked into a chair (there was no chair there before, not in New York, Vermont, anywhere--this was the tip-off) and realized I was, yes, HOME in Minneapolis, and my dogs were snoring like a snoring dog band. But no matter--I padded off to my beloved office, curled up in my chair, and totally forgot I was on tour until ten minutes before I remembered I was still on tour and had ten minutes to get to Interview One of the day...off I raced to pretend I was still on tour. And indeed I am, and have a reading tonight that I can't WAIT for--I don't even know how many dangling prepositions I've used in this blog--it's going to be a great time, all kinds of people I know well, know only a little, and don't know at all, everyone out on the town for a night to talk about a BOOK. How great is that? That people take time out of their incredibly busy lives to get together in the same room for a conversation about literature? And people say reading is dead. Not according to you or me, my friends, and let's keep it that way. For you Minneapolitans, I can't wait to see you tonight--and for you west coasters, I can't wait to see you next week--and for all of us, here's a hats off to the divine practice of reading, writing, and thinking about books. Keep the faith.

More tomorrow--cheers!

M

A new day, much delayed

2008-04-15T20:00:00Z

Hallo all!

So very sorry for the few days awol. It's been (do I even need to say busy?). However, here we have...

Thirteen Things: A Weekly Tour Blog

01. Number of small elf-like men in orange toupees met: 1
02. Number of times Jeff missed a plane (long story): 1
03. Number of hotel rooms TOTALLY WITHOUT COFFEE MAKERS: 2
04. Number of hotels scrambling to find a coffee maker (very generously): 1
05. Number of hotels who couldn't possibly cared less, resulting in number of revolting Red Bulls drunk: 1/1
06. Least comfortable position in which to write email at 3 a.m.: sitting on floor of the world's smallest hotel room with back against very cold heater, laptop on lap and feet under the bed
07. Most expensive pot of coffee + 2 grapefruit juices ever delivered to a hotel room: $43.07
08. Number of pairs of favorite boots worn on so many New York/Boston/Toronto/etc city strees that the heels woreI'll away to the metal spike: 2
09. Proportion of my saintly friends who keep writing to make sure I'm alive and sane: ALL. I love my friends.
10. Number of hotel rooms in which I lay awake listening to some kind of mechanical monster down on the street below make this rhythmic, ear-shattering screaming noise, sounding much like a pig being slaughtered on a regular schedule
11. Number of discussions I have had about which kind of deodorant is best for nightsweats during menopause: 3 (true fact, and I started none of these discussions)
12. Length, in minutes, of the CBS "Early Morning Show" clip: 3:21
13. Length, in min., of "Canada A.M." clip this morning: 5:01. (Thus, do Canadians have longer attention spans? Mike?)

...

Woke up in Toronto this morning, wondering where I was. Yesterday, I woke up in New York, wondering where I was. See also Vermont, Boston, et al...I go home tomorrow for a few days of Minneapolis media and the reading, and am quite sure I will wake up wondering where I am, get up, and fall down the stairs, because there have been no stairs in my hotel rooms, and I will be unfamiliar with the concept "stairs." My dogs will bark wildly, Ashley and Jeff and the Mysterious Steve (the residents of my home) will come running and peer down at me, and find that I have gone back to sleep because the floor is a perfectly good place to sleep when you're tired, in my opinion. But I'm dying to get home. And I'm hoping all of you will tune into the live webcast interview on Saturday, April 19, 5:30-6 p.m. CST. It should be lots of fun, and will be available as a podcast a few days after that. I can't wait to get home for a few days. Will recharge batteries, see my colleagues in the Minneapolis media, get to meet Minneapolis readers, see my nearest and dearest--can't beat it. Then it's off to L.A. early Sunday morning--where, on Monday, April 21, I'll be on (get this!) The Michael Jackson Radio Show, 10 a.m. PST. I think that one only reaches west coast listeners, but might be available online...

Deep sigh. I've got this afternoon off, and am trying to slow down enough to appreciate it. I've taken a bath, put on a big robe, am sitting here trying to chill. But after this many days on the road, my brain still thinks it's in zipping-along mode. Hopefully a few days home will cure me of the zips.

Want to thank all the wonderful people who've come out to the readings, especially my lovely ladies who came out to the Vermont reading, one of whom drove 7 hours to get there. My love to both of you, and much gratitude to everyone who's following the tour, sending kind words, and reading my books. Without you, I'd be, um...not writing books, and what would I do then? I'm totally unqualified to do anything else. So--my deepest thanks.

Cheers,
M

The CBS Early Show Scheduled for Monday April 14th 7:00 am EDT (but we don't know exactly what time Marya will be on)

2008-04-13T16:51:00Z

Marya's reading at Brookline Booksmith in Brookline MA (Boston).

This gentleman had first additions of all three books, Wasted, Center of Winter and Madness.

Taking a nap was a big mistake

2008-04-11T17:50:00Z

Oh my GOD I am tired. It was all fine and good, the 3-5 hours of sleep per day not bothering me one itty bit (well, hardly) until today (my first day off, sort of, not including about a dozen things I kind of also have to do) I lay down on the bed for a wee nap and then woke up feeling like if I didn't go back to sleep that very second I could pretty comfortably leave the hotel and go back to sleep on the Boston sidewalk in the rain. I am now sort of staggering around feeling like I am beating off sleep with a stick. It is working so far, but not for long.

What a week. Well, a week and a half. Roundup: one lecture, a class, three readings, nine interviews, four cities, countless subway and taxi rides, four train rides, two plane rides, a lot of important dinners which are currently escaping my mind, some other stuff, and (I'm counting) 40 hours of sleep. Now, doesn't that sound like a lot? Aha! But I should have had 80 hours in the last ten days. Hence the onset of this agressive nap-needing. However. There have also been dozens of wonderful readers to meet, great discussion, a chance to see friends, and a whole lot of emails I'm honored to get. To all the people who've written in the last week or so, thank you so much for your stories and thoughts—I'm very grateful to have readers who take the time to send me a note. It's a priveledge.

Yesterday was classic. Jeff and I left the hotel at 5:30 a.m. for planes at separate airports yesterday morning, heading for two total snafus. As you may have heard, the airlines were in a tizzy yesterday. Well, I missed the tizzy, but managed to arrive at Laguardia in plenty of time for my flight, checked in at the little self-check in kiosk, went to hurl my very overweight luggage onto the scale, presented my ticket, and was cheerfully informed that I was at the wrong terminal. What?? Who knew there was more than one terminal? Why didn't the cabbie say something? SO, off to another part of the airport to catch a bus to the other terminal, dragging my vastly overweight luggage. The bus arrived, I dragged my vastly...luggage (VOL) up the bus's steps while the driver peacefully watched and didn't help and collapsed in a seat. Then I realized I was at the bus's first stop of five, and there would be more (and more, and more) people getting on. So I got up and dragged the VOL as far back as I could on the bus without running into the other people and their VOL. A family of eight adults got on the bus. They included an elderly mother and a very elderly grandmother, and they lined up throughout the bus and had an enormous multipartate fight at the top of their lungs, which fight involved issues of money, bills, and (I'm certain) something about Valentine's Day. Off the bus, into the new terminal, finally divesting myself of the VOL, in and out of my shoes at security (I HATE that), finally seated with a cup of coffee to watch while the three flights after mine were cancelled in quick succession, necessitating for some reason a trip to the back of the airport and a long line to get on a flight in a new plane, which was then changed, and then there was something about the flight crew which was, and then was not, and then was about to arrive, and then in fact did arrive and off we flew. Meanwhile, at the JFK airport, Jeff was sitting in the Delta club lounge watching his flight be delayed, delayed, backed up, delayed, cancelled, reinstituted, delayed, and leaving a variety of messages on my cell phone telling me he'd meet me in Boston at 10, 11, noon, 1, 2, and that was the last I heard from him, so I assumed he'd died. Upon landing, I called my editor, with whom I'd be jetting around the city going to interviews with (that was a dangling participle, sorry), and we decided we'd cancel the escort who was going to be taking me around since we'd be together and the escort was unneccessary. A few hours later, she and I met at my hotel, and, both looking surprised, said to each other, "Where's the car?" Because it turned out she'd thought, ok, yeah, we don't need an escort, but forgot to think about the fact that the escort had the car, and I thought SHE had the car, and so we were about to be late for an interview on "Here and Now" (airtime TK). Because she and I had both been up until the crack of dawn the night before in New York and then gotten up at the slightly later crack of dawn to get to Boston, we were both a little slap-happy and laughed our butts off all the way to the radio station. Then we were off to coffee and a meeting with the creative writing director at Lesley College (great school!), and then we were totally running late for the reading, so we RACED back from Cambridge to the hotel, I threw on what I very much hoped were clean clothes, and we dashed off to the reading, WHICH WAS AWESOME. Boston, I love you. I had SUCH a good time at the reading last night. I hope you did too.

And in further drama, this morning Jeff made me call my publicist to get her to rearrange the rental car so he could pick it up without me, then we decided we'd call to rearrange it ourselves, and they told us he COULDN'T pick it up without me, so we decided never mind, and then the publicist called back to say she'd rearranged the car and now there was a new reservation for Jeff...who, by the way, did wind up in Boston, and is now making us totally late for checkout.

The impending nap will have to be postponed. But here's to Saturday coming tomorrow--trust me, I intend to sleep the whole day away.

Happy Friday!
M

Quick post-pub date blog

2008-04-10T08:10:00Z

So it's out! Just about two years in the making, Madness is officially on the shelves. Last night at a celebratory dinner, I almost slid off my chair in relief.

By the way, I blogged (this is not a verb) yesterday--don't know how it didn't post. Very annoyed.

Many many many thanks to all the folks who came out yesterday to the New York reading--I don't know about you, but I had a blast. It's a thrill to meet readers, and there were great questions, and some of my nearest and dearest were in the audience--love to all of you.

In tour news, the CBS Early Show appearance has been rescheduled for Monday, APRIL 14. This will entail vintage tour finaglings, such that I'm leaving New York today for Boston, driving from Boston to Vermont tomorrow, flying from Vermont back to New York after Sunday's reading, doing the Early Show VERY early Monday morning, and hopping a plane to Toronto. Planes, trains, and automobiles. (Actually, I did take a couple of trains this week--down to Washington D.C. and back--nothing better than a train for watching the world go by and getting some thinking done. Try it.)

4:15 a.m., and time to get ready for the Boston flight...I WILL have time for a proper blog tomorrow. More photos to post as well. In the meantime, happy Thursday to all!
Cheers,
M

Tour, Day...Wait, what day is it?

2008-04-07T09:41:00Z

Day 3? Day 47? Day 17? I'm losing track of time. I think it's Monday. If so, that means I'm heading for Washington, D.C. this evening after an interview with Time.com (will post its date when I know). I think I'm supposed to leave from Penn Station. I think I'm supposed to arrive at Union Station. I think it's supposed to happen today, and I am pretty sure it's Monday. That means tomorrow is Tuesday (I think), and I'll be on NPR's "Diane Rehm Show" at 11:00 a.m. Eastern Time. And THAT means the following day is Wednesday the 9th--lordy lordy, pub date. I'm hoping the cold that moved into my nose last night sometime between the beginning of dinner and the end will be gone by then so I'm not snuffling and snorting while I try to give a reading. So tacky. It won't go with my shoes.

So this is the new travel blog. When I'm not touring, ok, my travel schedule is not terrifically worldly--mostly this summer you'll hear from me when I'm up in Detroit Lakes, Minnesota, one of my favorite places on the planet, mentioned in previous blogs as the home of the Main Street Cafe, where the waitress doesn't speak to me but I am almost certain she likes me, or at least is used to me, since I've been hitting the Main Street since I was about zero. Last time I saw her, she'd streaked her hair. I'll keep you posted. I'm dreaming of DL right now, though through the window it's still a dark New York pre-dawn. Sitting in a chair on the porch by the lake sounds awfully nice. This summer I'll be working on the new novel while sitting in that chair, and I'm dying to get back to it. Of course, once I'm writing it, I will doubtless go through much hair-tearing and teeth-gnashing, but so it goes. Writing just sort of is that way. Maybe there are writers who don't tear or gnash, but I don't know any, and I know a fair number of writers. As Byron said, "We of the craft are all crazy." I mentioned that the other day in my talk on madness and creativity at Yale. It seems like a much more accurate way of putting it than the usual nonsense about mad geniuses or romantically tortured artists. Far, far more accurate than Plato quoting Socrates in the Ion, who said that "poets are nothing but the gods’ speakers, each one possessed by the divinity who possesses him. And to prove this, the deity on purpose sang the loveliest of all lyrics through the most miserable poet.” Ha! Very funny. I'm fairly sure miserable poets write no better poetry than cheerful ones. They're just more miserable. I'm with Byron. We of the craft are all crazy. But some of us aren't in the least miserable.

Someone mentioned in a post the other day something about me publishing a book of poetry--my friends, don't hold your breath(s). I have the weirdest relationship with poetry. I go through spells of writing it, the get mad at it and abandon it for years at a time. I can never decide if I think poetry or short story is the hardest form in which to write. Those who do either one consistently amaze me. Perhaps I am not miserable enough. I'll stick with novels. Which of course are terrifically easy. Hmm.

New York is waking up, I'm snorting and snuffling, and it's time for work. Good morning to all who are tuning in today, and have a great one.

Peace,
M

Thirteen Things, A Weekly Tour Index

2008-04-06T21:15:00Z

Current status: black coffee, bran muffin, Lora, West Village (NYC), V Bar

01.    Lost on Subway Myself, Half Asleep: 17 minutes
02.    Unexpected Visits To Chinatown: 1
03.    Lost With Jeff When He Knew Exactly Where We Were Going: 5 instances, minutes unmeasured
04.    Fallen Asleep in Public: 6 instances
05.    In Risotto: 1 instance
06.    Readings Down: 1
07.    Readings to Go: At least 9, other dates pending
08.    Hotel Check-ins: 3
09.    Number of Hotels Not Checked Into, On Account of No Smoking Rooms (I know!): 1
10.    Flowers I Missed Because I Was In The Wrong Hotel
         But Thank You My Wonderful Editor: Multi-colored Roses (sniffle)
11.    Flowers Received: Roses – Red, Orange
12.    Pens Used Up, and/or Burst In Bag, Pocket Since Tour Launch: 4
13.    Children Demanding That I Identify Myself in Hipster Coffeeshops: 1.5*

*One child fully demanded, the other mostly hopped.

Tour Pictures

2008-04-06T01:19:00Z

Outside the wonderful V Bar and Cafe on Sullivan St. in Manhattan.

Sweet Dreams!

Preparing for the reading at RJ Julia Bookstore in Madison CT.

On the train to New Haven CT

The reading at RJ Julia Bookstore

Dr. Frank Keil, Master of Morse College Yale University introduces Marya.

Dr Keil and Marya discuss madness and creativity.

Marya converses with a student.

We go to dinner with the chosen students.

Tour Day 3

2008-04-06T01:17:00Z

Hello all!

I skipped a day! Sorry. It was one of those totally typical tour days--first of all, there was the issue of the one-cup pot of coffee, which was immediately problematic. Then there was a whirlwind of emails and phone calls, an updated tour schedule, a snafu with the grey pants, a thirteen-dollar smoothie at Grand Central Station (is that even legal??), a mad dash trying to find the right track--turns out you don't pay attention to the part on the ticket where it says TRACK NUMBER --ours said TRACK NUMBER ONE, and as far as I can tell, there is no such track--and a race to the correct track (25), and a flinging ourselves into the seat, panting. The thirteen dollar smoothie was in fact very good. I set out to review my materials for Yale and my schedule. The phone started ringing; the schedule is now radically out of date, and a new schedule appeared on my email when I arrived in New Haven, but not before the other snafu, involving the wrong hotel, which required a call to AAA to get them to find another hotel, and then Jeff's brilliant idea that we should rent a car rather than take cabs (as my publicist had said we should (rent a car) a month ago, but I insisted no indeed we did not need one), and his call to Thrifty to reserve said car for an hour later, and his discovery that all that was available was a pickup truck, which I thought, well fine a truck works, but he felt it did not work, so he called another rental place, and reserved something else, and was told that the new rental place was one-third of a mile away from the New Haven station, and then our arrival at the station (a very pretty train station) and subsequent discovery that indeed the rental place was NOT one-third of a mile away but a twenty-dollar cab ride to the far reaches of the universe, Jeff swearing all the way, and our ride to North Haven (where the new hotel is, where I now sit in an elegant Holiday Inn, which contains a ONE-CUP COFFEE POT, while Jeff snores like the dickens), which is also nowhere near either the bookstore at which last night's reading took place, nor Yale, where I give my talks today, anyway, we arrived at the hotel an hour before the time we had to be at the reading half an hour away, and I scrambled into clean clothes and we zipped off to the reading, AND WERE ON TIME! Ha! Triumphant.

As for the reading--here is my HUGE thanks to all the people who came out last night. Great crowd, wonderful people, fascinating questions, and the incredible joy of finally getting to meet the real people who read my books. It is the biggest thrill to meet readers, talk to them, hear their stories, and hopefully give them a decent reading, because THAT'S why I write: you. Of course I thought the reading was wrong in this, this, and this other way, but for the first reading of tour, it wasn't TOO awful, and now I have a clearer idea of how I want to improve on it next time. BY the way, the RJ Julia Bookstore in Madison, CT, where I read last night is an AWESOME store, and I was honored to be there. Thanks many times over to RJ Julia for having me. The next reading is actually pub date, next Wednesday. I can't wait. But between now and then, there's a whooooole lot of stuff. In a fit of intelligence, I realized at 3 a.m. this morning (a.m. and this morning being redundant, sorry) that the talk I'd planned to give at Yale was not at all the talk I should give, and now am whipping around trying to get the new talk ready--so clever--and then the reverse train ride tonight, which hopefully will be sans snafu, getting into NYC around 1 a.m....but I have the weekend off, or thought I did, but suddenly there's an op-ed to write, and on Monday there are interviews and then I'm taking another train (I love trains) down to D.C. for the Diane Rehm show on Tuesday morning, which I'm really really looking forward to--she's so cool, and her show is so much fun--and then a passel of interviews on Wednesday, starting with the crack-of-dawn Early Show and lasting until about two minutes before the reading that night--well, not quite, because just before the reading I get to meet up with my fabulous friends, NY- and Mpls-based, who are coming to the scary Barnes and Noble with me, and we'll sit around and laugh our heads off and I'll be all zenned and mellow by the time I hit the podium at 7 p.m. and the book is officially sent off into the world. Weird! Weird! Weird!

So, as you can plainly see, the only thing for it is to do yoga now. The North Haven birds are singing, it's still dark out, and the day's about to begin.

And by the way (grin) many thanks for the birthday wishes. A friend of mine asked for a birthday story, and I told him about April 4, 1980, Walnut Creek, California, when I woke up six years old and pretty pleased with myself for having done so. There, hanging on a hanger from the dresser, was a PURPLE SKATING DRESS! It was glorious! I scrambled into it as fast as I could, insisted that we go skating IMMEDIATELY, and my pops took me to the Sun Valley Mall skating rink, and I think I went zipping around the rink a thousand times (wobbling is probably more like it), and then went to a restaurant that was in an old train car (my favorite restaurant) and had an eclair for lunch (my favorite food) and wouldn't take off the fabulous purple skating dress for days. SO wonderful. As my dad reminded me in a birthday email this morning, Dylan Thomas wrote, "The memories of childhood are without order and without end," and so they are, and I cherish them all. Nearly thirty years later (gulp), it just gets better and better every years. Here's to life!

Peace,
M

Tour, Day 1

2008-04-06T01:15:00Z

People, this is getting very weird. Last night I came up the escalator at the New York (Tribeca) Barnes & Noble and there was one of those coming events signs with my freaking name and picture on it. I nearly fell over backwards. For a second, I thought frantically about stealing the sign and running off with it, but did not, and as we (Sir Jeffrey) and I were walking out I said, "Wait a minute, do I actually have to show up?" And he said that yes I did. So, for those of you coming to the NY reading, I can confirm that I will show up, because Jeff will make me.

Correction: I am a total idiot. The Early Show (April 9) does not air at 11:00 a.m.; 11:00 is not that early. In NY, it airs at 7:00 a.m.; looks like you need to check your local CBS affiliate for airtime in your area. Sorry for the mistake.

What I want to know is why hotel rooms have these little itty bitty coffee makers that make ONE (1) cup of coffee. Does anyone drink one cup of coffee? And if indeed no one does, as I suspect is the case, then shouldn't there be some sort of coffee-delivering/obtaining area nearby? Like, you know, in the restaurant? Which does not open until 6:30a.m.? And even if there is, there is the problem of leaving your room in your pajamas with your hair standing on end and finding your way to this coffee-del//obt. area, is there not? I will see someone about it.

So the best people I've met on tour so far were two young gentleman I met yesterday afternoon while I was sitting in VBAR (coffeeshop in the West Village), working on my laptop while sitting by an open window. These two, aged approx. 5, stopped by outside the window to chat, and they asked me who I was, and I said I was a lady in a coffeeshop, and this seemed reasonable enough to them, and we had a fairly extensive conversation about their Power Rangers, and then discussed the alphabet, and they said they were working on the letters 'm' and 'n' in school, and I agreed that indeed these were hard letters to master, and then their father came by and he and I talked for a moment about whether, due to their small stature, the two young gentleman counted as one large person, or whether, due to the size of their personalities, they counted as four each. We settled on the latter.

Today is a typical tour day: working on the readings & reviewing the lecture this morning, then the interview on "Writers on Writing," Bay Area NPR affiliate KUCI-FM, then a photo shoot with the Washington Post, which I learned about yesterday at dinner, because I got a message on my phone confirming the photo shoot, and another confirming the interview, for the same time. This was sorted out, and now the photo shoot will happen after the interview, which seems for the best.

It's confirmed: The New York Times Book Review will review Madness. I'll let you know when it's running. Send good-review vibes in the direction of their offices. Yipes!

Guess what! It's 6:30 a.m., and there is coffee in the vicinity, and I have to hunt it down. Have a great day--will shoot you another report tomorrow.

Peace,
M