The Yellow Car Chronicles

Why I've Been a Negligent Blogger

2012-01-11T06:49:00.001-08:00

Meet Anya! She's pretty new.

Hi Everyone!

So we went and had a baby. She's pretty great, but taking care of her takes a lot of time (mostly doing laundry). But no worries, I'm back to writing and drawing books and I'm training her how to color them in. So far she just wants to put the markers into her mouth. It's an uphill process. But I'm really excited about PP4 coming out in April (The Popularity Papers 4: The Rocky Road Trip of Lydia Goldblatt and Julie Graham-Chang) so I'll be doing some touring again and updating the blog on a more regular basis. In theory...

FATIGUE!

2011-03-22T18:26:00.000-07:00

3:15am EST. Wake up, shower, finish packing.

4:04am EST. WAWA! Because you can't leave for a journey/come home from a journey without first going to Wawa. PHILLY LAW.

4:43am EST. My dearest most wonderfullest husband drops me off at Philadelphia International Airport.

4:51am EST. An airport worker tries to convince me that my rolly suitcase is too large for the overhead compartment, and that I need to check the bag. I freeze her with my super-terrifying Death Glare, remove a sweater from the rolly suitcase, put it in my other bag, and go on my merry way through security.

5:01am EST. I get through security and put the sweater back in the rolly suitcase.

6:03am EST. The rolly suitcase, with the super-puffy sweater, fits into the overhead compartment JUST FINE.

6:15am EST to 9:15am PST. Flight from Philly to San Francisco.

After landing, I picked up my Big White SUV, which I have named Moby D, and used the Abrams GPS to drive up to Book Passages in Marin County. The GPS has two names--

Name for when the GPS is behaving: Buddy

"Okay, I turned left, where to now Buddy? Drive 1.9 miles? Okay Buddy!"

Name for when the GPS is not behaving: Señor Poopypants.

"What do you mean, you've lost satellite feed? Do not make me throw you into the San Francisco Bay, Señor Poopypants!"

After a massive salad at the Book Passages cafe (so good to eat something green after my breakfast of pita, cheese, and leftover hamentashen) (I don't miss airplane food, but I do miss the days when it was free) I met up with two women named Susan and Sue. They have last names. I am really, really tired and don't quite remember them. But I slurped down a mocha and Sue took me to the Marin Elementary School.

I'm not exactly sure what I said to the kids, but I was powered by mocha and adrenaline and it seemed to go pretty well. The kids were great and asked terrific questions, and I think that I answered them with words.

Back in Moby D, I drove into San Francisco and found the hotel. In order to get into the garage the receptionist, Hester (also known as AWESOME HESTER) measured Moby D and then guided me, airport tarmac employee-style, into the narrow entrance of the underground garage.

7:39pm PST. Begged the Spirit of Jet Lag to let me stay awake until at least 8 so that I could sleep through the night.

2:02am PST. AWAKE!!! Oh Spirit of Jet Lag, please oh please be merciful to me today?

I'll be at Books Inc. in the Marina at 4:30 today--come on down if you're in the San Francisco area and you want to hear me say some words!

A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Joke

2011-03-20T16:20:00.000-07:00

Fred the Fish and Sam Clam were best friends, even though Fred the Fish was pretty square (he always goes to school) and Sam Clam was a little wild (he never met a mussel that he didn't want to pump). But still they were the best of friends.

One day, Fred's school was caught and he became an excellent entree at a local bistro. But Fred's little fishy soul went to heaven, where he got some white robes, a halo, and a harp, and Fred was happy.

But he missed his friend. One day, during harp rehearsal, he heard from a recently arrived lobster that Sam had also passed away. "But he's not here!" Fred cried, and then realized...uh oh...Sam must be there.

The music director saw that Fred was upset, and took him aside. "You know, I can talk to the Big Guy for you, and maybe you can go down there for a little while and say hi to your friend." He was true to his word, and the next day, Fred was allowed to visit Sam, with only one stipulation: He had to be back in heaven by midnight, or he'd have to stay down there forever.

Down Fred went! He had no problem finding Sam--he was running a popular disco. Sam laughed and embraced his old friend, and the two talked about old times and caught up. Sam gave Fred a tour of the club; Fred played a harp solo for Sam that he'd been working on. They were having such a nice visit that Fred lost track of time, and all of a sudden he realized it was 11:55. "Yikes!" He yelped, "I have to go!" He bid a quick farewell to his old friend and made a dash back up to heaven.

"So how was it?" The musical director asked Fred the next day.

"It was great," Fred said mournfully, "but...I left my harp in Sam Clam's disco!"

BWAH HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!

Heading to San Francisco on Tuesday for some book store and school visits!

Cartoons and Panels and Fish, Oh My!

2010-11-21T03:00:00.000-08:00

This picture doesn't have much to do with the rest of the Miami Book Fair, but it was an awesome sandwich.

One of my biggest fears about coming down to the Miami Book Fair was that I'd make no friends. Mark told me not to worry--I'm a relatively social person, I'd make friends, it would be fine. But I had visions of myself alone in my room crying over my dinner of Nutrigrain bars on a Friday night while all the other authors whooped it up without me.

If there's one thing that I've learned from this trip, it's this: If you're a cartoonist, you'll never walk alone. (Bear with me, it's early in the morning and I'm not working with a whole lot of sleep: my describy powers might be compromised.)

HOW TO FIND OTHER CARTOONISTS AT A BOOK FAIR
by Amy Ignatow, Cartoonist

1. Go to the hospitality suite. There you will find at least three other cartoonists at all times. This is because cartoonists cannot resist the lure of free food. "BAGELS FOR US!!!" We joyfully exclaim every morning, wide-eyed and gleeful over by the fact that we don't have to pay for our breakfasts.

2. Go to the cartoonist panels. Here you will not only see cartoonists at tables talking about their craft, but also cartoonists in the audience bobbing their heads up and down. Yes, it's true, we nod excitedly to ourselves, we do visualize the image at the same time that we're coming up with the text!

3. Go to the back of the shuttle bus taking authors to an event. The cartoonists will be easy to spot, as we'll all be dressed in jeans and no one will be seated properly (everyone twisted around to face each other instead of looking straight ahead).

Once you find your cartoonists, you'll always be in good company. Cartoonists are the best.

I wish I had taken more pictures of all the amazing people that I met, but my camera was running out of juice and did I bring the battery charger? Of course not. But here's what I got.

With some of the great readers at Kelsey Pharr Elementary School on Thursday.

The street fair part of the Miami Book Fair. Imagine blocks and blocks of this. It was amazing.

One of my favorite books for sale at Books & Books tent.

What does it look like to be a panelist? This was what I saw when I was on the Women Making Comics panel with Raina Telgemeier, Tracy White, and Amanda Connor (moderated by Kat Kan).

With Raina Telgemeier, Dave Roman, Alexis Fredrick-Frost, and Kat Kan after dinner on Thursday in South Beach.

Raina Telgemeier, Barry Deutsch, and Chris Schweizer signing their books after our panel on Saturday (with John Shableski just stone cold hanging out and being all awesome)

The Miami People Mover. There isn't much public transportation in Miami, but what they do have is pretty cool and free. I mostly took this picture because the dog was cute.

Evening view from the people mover.

Time to pack a bunch of little bottles of shampoo and conditioner into my rolly bag and head north to chilly Philly. I've had a great time and I've met fascinating and wonderful people, but there's a great husband, a warm cat, and a sorely neglected drafting table in Philadelphia waiting for me to come home.

What can I even say?

2010-11-18T02:08:00.000-08:00

Uhmahgawduhmahgawduhmahgawd.

After an excellent flight down (the plane was only about a third full, leaving all of the gleeful passengers with a full row to themselves) and a mildly harrowing ride to the airport in a van that smelled like smoke and air-freshener, I arrived at the Hyatt Regency in downtown Miami.

I checked into the room, took a moment to marvel at the mountain of decorative pillows on the bed, and promptly ripped open my luggage to frantically search for the individually wrapped stick of cheese and the squashed Nutri-grain bar I'd bought at the Wawa back in Philly. Note to future self--when you get to a hotel at 10 at night and you have to be up early in the morning, you're not going to run around looking for a restaurant. Have something a little more substantial on hand than an individually wrapped stick of cheese and the squashed Nutri-grain bar.

No matter. I found the bed under Mt. Pillow, turned on the teevee, and promptly fell asleep.

In the morning I headed up to the hospitality suite. It's like author central, where tired, confused authors from all over the world come to eat bagels and be handed off to volunteers who take care of us for the day. Being an author is kind of like being a kid traveling alone in an airport--there are people whose jobs it is to make sure that you don't get lost/miss your flight/climb into a storage bin to take a nap. I was introduced to my handler for the day, Bill, who whisked me off to my first school.

As we walked into the school, the warm Miami temperatures started playing tricks with my mind. There aren't going to be any kids at this school, I thought, because it's summer. But I was happily wrong and I had a great time with the kids at Bowman Foster Ashe Elementary (and about half of them had already read The Popularity Papers!) After the program the principal of the school gave me my very own orange Bowman Foster Ashe school uniform polo shirt (should I ever want to matriculate).

Eliseo Hernandez, the school's principal, introduces me to the kids. As you might be able to tell from the photo, the heat here has begun to transform my hair into an exciting ball of frizz.

Bill and I had a little time to kill before heading off to our next school, so he drove me through some of the neighborhoods of Miami; Coral Gables, Coconut Grove, Little Havana. I saw the hotel where Bill Clinton stays when he comes to Florida to play golf and the old building where Cuban immigrants used to come to be processed. I took photos of nothing because that's Mark's job and d'oh! Okay, I need remember to take more photographs. For now I'll just post a picture of the house from The Golden Girls.

I keep looking around for Betty White. So far, no luck, but I've only been here for a day.

Then we were off to Auburndale Elementary. Now I'm getting used to doing school events--it's a little like when I was a substitute teacher. I'm new, nobody knows me, the best I can hope for is to make a good impression.

But not at Auburndale. At Auburndale, they knew who I was.

Liliana Salazar, principal at Auburndale. "You have no idea what you're getting into," she told me as she walked me down the Popularity Papers-decorated hallway to the school library. "They all love the book. You have no idea." She was totally right.

The PTA had bought all of the kids copies of my book. I want to hug the PTA of Auburndale Elementary School.

This was the first time that I'd been at a school where all of the kids had read the book, which was astonishing because it was the first time that I didn't have to explain the premise of the book. They all came prepared with questions written on index cards. Oh, and AND THEY ALL OPTED TO WEAR DRESSES AND SUITS WITH LITTLE KID NECKTIES FOR THE OCCASION.

Look at these kids!!! I felt kind of like a schlub in my jeans.

After we finished the program there was a little luncheon and they gave me flowers. They are now sitting in an ice bucket full of water in my hotel room.

But one of the most amazing parts of the visit was the job that the staff and the kids did in decorating the school for my arrival--

Would you like to see some details?

Awesome. I love this so much it's REDONK. But wait...

AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!! IT'S THE PHOTO OF TILDA THAT I TOOK THE JUST THE DAY BEFORE!!! Modern technology met Google and ingenuity and scissors and paste and COMPLETELY BLEW MY MIND!!!!!

Bill, my super awesome guide for the day, asked how I felt as we walked out of the school (with students still waving at me). I honestly had no idea how to feel. One of the most emotional days I ever had in my career was the day I was offered a book deal. One of the most exciting days I ever had in my career was the day I first saw my book in a bookstore. But this was the first time I'd ever been with a large group of kids in formalwear who had all read and loved the book. I feel a tremendous gratitude to the Miami Book Fair for bringing me down here, for the faculties at both schools for welcoming me and introducing my book to their students, and and and...

What can I even say? Last night when I got back to the hotel (after an excellent evening with Ruthie and Jeff, Mark's aunt and uncle) I called Mark to tell him about the day, and all that came out was, "LITTLE NECKTIES...DECORATIONS...FLOWERS...I MISS TILDA!"

Two more schools today! I will try to take more pictures.

Heading to Miami!

2010-11-16T11:40:00.000-08:00

I know I haven't posted in a while, but that's because this is primarily a tour blog and I haven't been anywhere. No, excepting two fun mini-excursions to bookstores in northern New Jersey (The Clinton Bookshop and Words in Maplewood) I've been bound to my studio, just writing and drawing and sharpening pencils and gluing stuff.

But it's time once again to pack up my bag and hit the road! The road to the airport. Today I head down to Florida to the Miami Book Fair, where I'll be doing some school visits and presenting on some panels.

REASONS I AM EXCITED TO GO TO THE MIAMI BOOK FAIR

1. I'm Going on a Business Trip. Okay, so I know it might not be a big deal to some people, but being put on an airplane and staying at a hotel that I didn't have to book is CRAZY AWESOME. I hope someone at the airport asks me, "Why are you going to Miami?" I will respond, "Oh, business," like it's something that I do all of the time, and then the person will say, "Business trip to Miami in November? Not bad!" and then we will throw back our heads and chuckle, even though it's not particularly funny, because that's what people who travel on business with little rolly suitcases do.

2. I Get to Hang Out With Authors! Hanging out with authors is pretty fun. With the exception of the friendly and talented Duncan Tonatiuh, I don't think I've met any of the other authors who are going to be at the fair, so I'm excited to meet new people and make new author friends.

3. Miami in November Sounds Nice. I am going to get a tan! I plan to accomplish this by standing outside for about twenty minutes.

4. I Need to Get Out of My Studio. Ever since we came back from our big trip, I've been working crazy hard on my next project. Although I'm really happy with what I've accomplished, I've pretty much been living in my pajamas and if I don't get out and socialize soon I'm going to become That Crazy Lady on the block that kids whisper about when they walk past the house. She never comes out! I hear she eats children! See her through the window, wearing her witch's robes? It's just a bathrobe, okay! Yeah, I need to get out.

REASONS I AM NERVOUS ABOUT GOING TO THE MIAMI BOOK FAIR

1. Since meeting Mark, I've never traveled without him for longer than two days. It seems ridiculous to be nervous about this, because I used to be this really awesome World Traveler type.

1997, Israel. On top of Masada. The blond girl is my friend Shoshanah, who I am still friends with today. And not just Facebook friends, either.

1997, Israel

1998, Scotland. With my high school friends Kit and Sarah, who I am also still friends with today.

2000, Greece. This is with one of my best friends, Kim. I have no idea why we're standing like superheroes.

2000, Greece

2000, Greece. I am very good at picking up new languages.

2001, India.

2001, India. That terrifying scruffy man is my dad.

2004, Turkey. My brother took this picture, which is why it looks like a minaret is growing out of my head.

2004, Turkey. We look like we're hugging, but I'm actually trying to throw my brother off the edge of a cliff for making me look like a minaret-head.

So six days without my husband shouldn't be that bad. But I've become accustomed to him taking care of the things that I'm not so good at, like

2. I have no sense of direction. This, in and of itself, is not a terrible thing; the problem is that not only do I lack a sense of direction, I lack the sense to figure out where I need to go before I start moving. This has been pointed out to me a lot by many different people. I will be in an unfamiliar place and I will just take off in any direction. The bus stops, I get out, and I start walking with little to no idea as to where I'm headed. Despite all of the mocking I've endured ("Umm...Amy, where exactly are you going?") I can't seem to change this weird behavior.

3. What if the Other Authors are Mean to Me? Going to this fair feels like going to overnight summer camp for the first time. I don't know what to expect and I don't know anyone there. What if everyone there is already friends with each other, and they have private jokes with each other that I don't understand? What if I say, "Hey anyone want to grab a bite to eat?" and they all look at each other and say, "Umm, jeez, sorry, I already ate, yeah, maybe next time, bye!" and run away, leaving me to eat every meal alone in my hotel room? What if mid-grade novelists are the lowest rung on the Miami Book Fair social ladder? What if Salman Rushdie and Dave Eggers gang up on me?

4. I'VE NEVER BEEN ON A PANEL BEFORE. I am most anxious about this. First, I'm not entirely sure what I'm supposed to prepare. Second, when I get nervous I tend to get silly. I also get silly when I'm not nervous. I AM A SILLY PERSON AND SILLY PEOPLE SHOULD NOT BE ON SERIOUS PANELS. Also, I've never even witnessed a panel I'm going to barf myself with fear.

THINGS I HAVE TO DO BEFORE I LEAVE FOR THE MIAMI BOOK FAIR

1. Buy a little rolly suitcase.

2. Pack things into the little rolly suitcase that I have not yet bought.

3. Prepare slide shows for the panels. Of what, I don't really know.

4. Publish this blogpost...

Update:

Got a rolly suitcase.

Birthday gift!

2010-09-16T05:27:00.000-07:00

For those of you who don't know, yesterday was my birthday! Some people are really nonchalant about their birthdays--if people mention it, great, if not, no big deal. Others dread the day, seeing it only as a depressing reminder of their mortality. Me, I run around for weeks in advance telling everyone that it's my birthday and then I get hyper-excited when anyone wishes me a happy birthday.

Me: I need to set up an appointment, my laptop won't close properly. Also, it's my birthday.

Apple Store Guy: Okay, when would be a good time for you to come in?

Me: Monday would be good. Today, however, is my birthday. How long do you think it will take to fix it?

Apple Store Guy: It doesn't sound like a huge problem, probably not long. Monday at 10?

Me: That works for me. Happy Birthday to me.

Apple Store Guy: Okay. And Happy Birthday!

Me: HOORAY, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!!!

It's a little obnoxious, but I genuinely love my birthday. I love birthday presents, too, even if they're super-creepy. Last night my friend Melody gave me this--

Yes, Melody the character in The Popularity Papers is named after Melody the friend who gives creepy gifts. They may look nothing alike, but I do believe there is a shared sense of humor.

I've got to stop playing with this creepy thing now, it's driving the cat insane. Insaner.

Princeton Children's Book Festival

2010-09-12T04:20:00.000-07:00

Children's book authors are totally weird and I am proud to be one.

I'm not one to put much stock into astrological signs (can everyone born in late August and most of September be doggedly loyal and hyper-organized? How is that possible?) but I do believe that I possess many qualities that gel with the stereotype of a Virgo--I like to be organized and prepared and on time.

So wait, you say, Amy, you're a Virgo? Did we miss your birthday? Actually no, it's WEDNESDAY. MY BIRTHDAY IS WEDNESDAY. This has nothing to do with the rest of this post, but I think it's important for the whole entire world to know. MY BIRTHDAY IS ON SEPTEMBER 15th, WHICH IS WEDNESDAY.

So...preparedness! I was, in some ways, prepared for the festival. Before we went on tour I'd received a letter that made some things very clear--

Each author or illustrator will be assigned one 6' foot table under our tents. Tents will be arranged by color and your location is included in this package. This space is entirely your own for the afternoon, so please feel free to personalize the area with anything you would like to use for display purposes.

When I was in the first grade, Mrs. Bronstien gave me my first homework assignment. I don't know what the assignment was (probably something involving calculus or maybe coloring something in) but I do remember her saying, "Anyone who wants to do this can, but you don't have to" and that pretty much ruined me for homework for life. If you tell me that I don't have to do something, then I'm going to think that it doesn't need doing. Despite all Virgoian instincts, if given the option to be lazy, I'm probably going to take it.

Six feet of table space is a whole lot of space. This became terrifyingly clear to me the moment that I arrived at my big yellow table. All around me, authors and illustrators were constructing elaborately decorated displays to promote their books and setting out dishes of individually-wrapped pieces of chocolate to lure in readers, and I was afloat in a sea of yellow tablecloth. This was bad.

A girl approached my table. "Hi," she said, "I'm Taryn, and I'm your volunteer for the day. Do you need any help with anything?"

"YES!!!" I roared, whipping out my sketchbook and starting to draw. "I'm going to draw and ink this in. You are going to erase my pencil marks and color in the drawings. Cool?"

Taryn's eyes widened. All of the other volunteers were sort of wandering around or getting cups of water for their authors. "Yes!" She squeaked, and I threw an eraser to her. Sure, I hadn't prepared with decorations, but I had my art supplies and I was prepared to decorate. I churned out drawings of Julie, Lydia, a monster alien with a book, another monster alien with a book, and two vases of flowers. Taryn erased like she'd been born with a Staedtler Mars White Plastic in her hand and then ran off to find tape and more Sharpies. In an hour we had quite possibly the most beautiful table in the entire festival.

Taryn and me and our mind-bogglingly beautiful table.

I tell myself that I'm going to be better prepared next time--we'll see. But our solution worked pretty well, and a lot of kids stopped by the booth to have me sign their new copies of The Popularity Papers, so our excessive use of Princeton Library tape was not for nothing.

A blue-tongued reader checks out her freshly-signed copy of The Popularity Papers.

And so ends this streak of book events that I've been on. My next event (that I know of) is on September 24th in Lee, Massachusetts, where I won't forget to bring my camera (like I did on Friday when I went to Lititz--I love you, Aaron's Books! Also, the town of Lititz smells like chocolate. I like Lititz) and I'll be at the Ocean County Library in Tom's River, NJ, for Bookfest on the 25th.

Until then, I've got some actual authorin' to do. It will be really nice to just sit at my drafting table to draw--it's been a while. Unless we're counting the decorations at the Princeton Children's Book Festival...

Homecoming

2010-09-09T04:36:00.000-07:00

It's always nice to come home to find that the cat hasn't gruesomely murdered the housesitter. As I write this, Tilda the Much Maligned is on me like white on rice, and has been for the past twelve hours. She seems extremely happy to have us home, which will last right about until I wrestle her down and clip her claws. Then she'll just be extremely happy to have Mark home.

Here are some numbers for The Popularity Papers Goes Midwest Tour:

4,728 miles
14 states
11 hotels
9 visits with friends
10 book events
19 book stores visited
4 motel waffles consumed
2 couples married
3 friends gave birth
2 friends who live in Ohio named Jessica but who are more often than not called "Jessi"
2 baseball games
4 run-ins with the Wimpy Kid Ice Cream Truck
14,827 insects died horribly on Tali's windshield and front bumper
18 different bedrooms
7 new bruises on my legs from stumbling around 18 different bedrooms
6 times crossing the Mississippi
9 sing-alongs to The Proclaimers' one-hit wonder "500 Miles"

Bookstores that hosted events--

Books & Co. in Beavercreek, Ohio
Joseph-Beth in Cincinnati, Ohio
Cover to Cover Books in Columbus, Ohio
Kids Ink in Indianapolis, Indiana
Puddin'Head Books in St. Louis, Missouri
Bookworm in Omaha, Nebraska
Barnes & Noble in Rochester, Minnesota
Wild Rumpus in Minneapolis, Minnesota
Wonderland Books in Rockford, Illinois
Penguin Bookshop in Sewickley, Pennsylvania

Friends and family that invited us to stay with them and raid their refrigerators--

My in-laws in Beavercreek, Ohio, the first stop on the tour, who brought all sorts of knitters and one of Mark's former teachers to the Books & Co. event

Heather, Jeremy, and little Elli, who entertained us mightily with her dancing skills in Lebanon, Ohio

Sonia, Michael, and Bear, who hosted us in Des Moines the week before their wedding in LA, because they had nothing better to do

Anna and Jeremy, who will, one day, witness my awesome bowling skills

John/Brother Stephen, who needs to find a way to catch this season of Project Runway because the new hour and a half format is EXCELLENT

Kathleen, Eric, Julia, and Ari, who are to blame for Mark's newfound addiction to Rock Band

and Jessi, Marc, and Ben, who actually gave up their bedroom so that we would be more comfortable (Jessi and Marc, Ben got to stay in his own crib)

Amazing, right? We saw the Great Plains, and the Rockies, and Mt. Rushmore, and Buffalo Bill's grave, and the gift store at Buffalo Bill's grave, we ate Indian food in Cheyenne, I didn't eat Spam in the Spam Museum, we took naughty photos of the Jolly Green Giant, and witnessed some dear friends get married. It was quite a journey, one that I'll never forget, mostly because we took a billion million pictures.

But it's not over, folks. Tomorrow night I'll be at the Lititz KidLit Festival (and I just found out that there's a chocolate factory in Lititz, uhmahgawduhmahgawd) and on Saturday I'll be at the Princeton Children's Book Festival. This tour may be over, but the touring continues.

Day 20: Pennsylvania and home

2010-09-08T16:21:00.000-07:00

Inside the Commonwealth of Atticus Phanaticus.

So much cat to hug! So much mail to sort through! So much laundry to do! So many dead insects from Iowa and Nebraska and Wisconsin to scrape off the front bumper of the car. So many episodes of Project Runway to catch up on! And my goodness, the fridge is really clean.

Tomorrow after a good night of sleep and a good day of not driving I'll write a very thoughtful post on what this trip meant, a summary of the things that we did and saw, a thank you to all the wonderful booksellers who hosted events, the friends who let us into their homes, and the readers who showed support for The Popularity Papers. Until then, a few ridiculous pictures of Atticus from our trip home.

Did you know that Bedford, PA, has a building shaped like an enormous coffee pot? Atticus knows.

Atticus salutes our state capitol in Harrisburg with his nose-tongue.

From the inside of the capitol building.

I'd write more tonight, but this cat needs some good lovin'. And we need to go to Wawa to pick up dinner. It's really, really good to be home.

Flying Atticus

2010-09-08T05:01:00.001-07:00

Not every shot is a winner.

Some of you may be wondering, How do you get Atticus to fly for those awesome pictures? Well, dear blog reader, we repeatedly hurl him in the air until we get a good shot (or until we're giggling too much to continue or until people give us weird looks). Here are the ones from our little photo session atop Mt. Washington.

In this shot, we completely miss the Pittsburgh skyline.

Timing is everything.

Sometimes I may throw him with a little too much enthusiasm.

Camera-shy.

Now he looks like he's jumping off a bridge.

And doing a martial arts move on Pittsburgh.

A GIANT FALLING ATTICUS IS GOING TO CRUSH PITTSBURGH!!! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES, PITTSBURGHIANS!

Atticus does his best impression of the Goodyear Blimp.

The winning shot.

Day 19: Pittsburgh

2010-09-08T03:56:00.000-07:00

Pittsburgh!

LAST STOP ON THE TOUR!!! My friend Bethany is sad because she's under the impression that I'll stop blogging once the tour ends and she'll have nothing silly to read when she's feeding baby Rhys at early o'clock in the morning. No worries, new mothers! The tour may be ending but the tour blog will continue--on Friday I'll be in Lititz, PA for a book event, and on Saturday I'll be at the Princeton Children's Book Festival. As long as Jason has the strength and fortitude to send me somewhere, the blog will continue, and that guy is looking very healthy.

We said goodbye to Jessi, Marc, and Ben and headed towards our home state of Pennsylvania. I know that Pennsylvania is a big state, and Pittburgh is just about as far from Philadelphia as one can get while still being technically in Pennsylvania, but it felt great to be kind-of back.

Pennsylvania welcomes us! In a blurry sort of way. Imagine that we saw the sign and then rubbed our eyes in disbelief, which is why it is blurry. Yup.

After a quick stop at the Mattress Factory (an art installation museum) we made our way to the top of Mt. Washington to get a good view of Pittsburgh. Pittsburgh has 446 bridges and I think we may have crossed two-thirds of them to find this scenic outlook. But it was worth it.

Atticus enjoys the view.

The book event was at the Penguin Bookshop in Sewickley, a suburb of Pittsburgh. One of the great pleasures of being on this tour has been the chance to see all sorts of bookstores in different regions and to meet the staffs there, because book people are my people.

Every time I think of someone taking the time to make a promotional poster on behalf of my book, I feel all warm and gooey inside.

The kids were great and asked really detailed questions. I had never before considered what my favorite page in the book would be.

After the event we checked into our (blissfully wifi-ed) hotel room, freshened up, and headed to PNC Park for a ball game. For those of you who don't know, last night the Pittsburgh Pirates (who are considered to be a pretty terrible baseball team) were playing the Atlanta Braves (who were the best team in the division). If, last night, the Phillies beat the Florida Marlins, and the Pirates somehow managed to beat the Braves, the Phillies would take the lead in the division, so we showed our support for our Phillies by wearing Phillies gear and taking Atticus to the game.

Very odd, Transformer-like sculpture that we saw on the way to the stadium. Go Pittsburgh with your weird public art! Atticus is impressed by all the bridges.

Baseball! Most of the Pirates fans were pretty supportive of our Phillies love, but we got some dirty looks from the Braves fans in attendance.

This is the Pirates mascot. He (I assume it's a he) came over when he saw Atticus and bopped me on the head. I can honestly state that being loved up on by the Phanatic is rougher than being roughed up by the Pittsburgh Parrot. When his back was turned, Atticus stuck his nose-tongue at the Parrot's tush. Mark was terrified that the Parrot was going to kill me.

We live to tell the tale and watch a ball game.

Kudos to the Pirates for having a perogie race during the middle of the game.

And then, inspired by Atticus, the Pirates pulled ahead of the Braves, 5-0! Hooray! All we needed was three more outs and the Pirates would win!!!

And then came the rains.

And it rained and it rained and it rained.

And the grounds crew came out and covered the field.

But we waited it out, because we are Philly fans, and Philly fans wait out the rain. Also, we had walked to the ballpark and didn't want to get soaked on the way home. Finally the game resumed, the Pirates won! And then the Phillies won! And this nice Pirates fan gave Atticus a smooch.

Hooray!!!

One last big car trip, and then we're going to hug the cat until she remembers who we are.

Days 17 and 18: Chi-town and the Cleve

2010-09-07T02:42:00.000-07:00

Atticus is a lover of art. And lions.

Why is it that the hotel in Mitchell, SD with the strange smell and the peeling wallpaper trim had free wifi but the Chicago Hilton wanted to charge me $7.95 an hour? Harumph! And outrage! I recognize that this is how places like the Chicago Hilton make a pile of money, but I was still miffed, which is why I took their complimentary shower-cap that I would have otherwise left untouched. SO THERE, CHICAGO HILTON.

I'm writing this from our far more luxurious and pleasant accommodations in Shaker Heights with our friends Jessi and Marc, who have, as so many of our other wonderful friends on this journey, given us the password to use their wifi. After saying goodbye to Eric and little Ari on Sunday we drove into Chicago for a day of book eventless pure tourism fun. We started off the day in the neighborhood of Oak Park where Frank Lloyd Wright had designed a bunch of private homes. Mark told me that he had kept a key to each of the homes, so that he could sneak in and rearrange the furniture in the event that the homeowners had changed it from his original design.

He may have been an egomaniac, but the man had style.

Frank Lloyd Wright's first independent commission after leaving the architectural firm he was working for in the late 1800s.

Atticus and the famous architect.

After Oak Park we headed into the city to walk around Millenium Park and meet up with Mark's friend Mary, whose daughter Zelda had read and was a fan of the book.

Approaching Chicago. Also known as Chi-town, Chicagoland, The Windy City, Second City, and Hog Butcher for the World.

Sculpture in Millenium Park. There were two of them facing each other, and the faces on the sculptures would change and occasionally spit a fountain of water. It was pretty great.

You go, Chicago with your public art. Mark called this one "the big silver kidney bean". It was terrific.

Atticus underneath the big silver kidney bean.

Family portrait outside the big silver kidney bean.

Zelda and Atticus. Zelda, by the way, was awesome.

Of course it couldn't be a completely book eventless day--I popped into a Borders to sign some copies of the book and forced a hapless employee to pose for a picture with Atticus.

Benson the Borders Bookseller, Atticus, and a pile of copies of The Popularity Papers.

Mark had read that the Sears Tower (now called the Willis Tower, but I like to refer to it as That Great Big Black Eyesore in the Middle of A Really Pretty City) charges a pretty penny to go to the top, but you can go to the bar at the top of the Hancock Tower and get just as nice a view. And a drink, so, Atticus in hand, up we went.

The Hancock Tower. Much taller than Atticus.

View from the ladies room at the Hancock Tower. Chicago is so much bigger than most of the cities we've been to on this trip, which was a bit of a culture shock after days of driving through South Dakota, Minnesota, and Wisconsin.

After a full day we headed back to the hotel, did not use wifi, and in the morning packed our bags and headed out of town.

But not before taking photos in front of the Art Institute.

And we were back on the road for the long drive to Cleveland. It was strange to be taking pictures of states where we'd already been, but we still felt the urge to take them.

Hello Indiana!

Goodbye, Indiana.

At Jessi and Marc's we met their son, Ben, for the first time, and he met Atticus for the first time. They seemed to get along.

Or maybe Ben punched Atticus in the eye. Either way, it was cute.

Today we head further east to our last tour stop, the Penguin Book Shop in Sewickley at 4pm. It's strange to be back in our own time zone, and stranger still to be headed home, but we're almost ready.

Days 15 and 16: Wisconsin and Illinois

2010-09-04T14:56:00.000-07:00

Thanks Wisconsin!

"Google says that if we don't speed a little we're going to get there three minutes late" Mark said.

After leaving Minneapolis we'd driven down to Wisconsin to visit with our friend John (now known as Brother Stephen, but we still think of him as John). About two years ago John left Philadelphia to pursue his calling to become a monk, and his order keeps a hermitage in the small Wisconsin town of De Soto, WI. John was very happy to see us, fed us copiously, and peppered us with questions about the outside world (Project Runway is now an hour and a half! And sorry, Ugly Betty went downhill).

On the way to the hermitage.

Also on the way to the hermitage.

The hermitage.

Atticus communes with some art in the hermitage.

View from the hermitage. I just like writing "hermitage".

Atticus relaxes in front of the Mississippi.

Mark and John at the roadhouse for dinner.

Roadhouse decor.

After bragging to John about how good we are at getting up early, we woke up late and scrambled to shower, pack, and wolf down a great breakfast that John had prepared for us. Soon we were driving down a very pleasant road that runs alongside the Mississippi River, and about half an hour into the trip Mark was able to get a signal on his iPhone. This was when he said,

"Google says that if we don't speed a little we're going to get there three minutes late."

I know that I have mentioned before that I am originally from Long Island. My first driver's license was issued by the state of New York. For those of you who don't know what that implies, when someone says, "Google says that if we don't speed a little we're going to get there three minutes late," I hear, "DRIVE!!! DRIVE LIKE THE WIND!!! BECOME THE MANIAC SPEED DEMON THAT YOU SO ESSENTIALLY ARE!!!! GO! GO! GO!!!!!!!!!" All the years of living in Philadelphia melted away and I was, once more, a New York driver--pushy, foul-mouthed, with little to no regard for posted traffic laws.

Now I'm not proud of speeding or hurling obscenities at other motorists (although seriously, drivers of Wisconsin, would it kill you to lay off the cell phones?) but the thought of being late to an event was, again, horrifying to me. One day, something will happen that is beyond my control and I will be late, but so help me, today was not going to be that day. We arrived at Wonderland Books and Toys in Rockford with our hearts racing and our eyes wild, and with ten minutes to spare.

We drove past cheese.

We made it to Illinois.

We resisted any urge to stop.

We made it!

And thank goodness for our rampant law-breaking, because every minute spent at Wonderland was great. The kids were funny and asked good questions, the booksellers were really enthusiastic, and there was free ice cream. I swear, we are going to be more mindful of our alarm clocks.

Display at Wonderland.

Look! A line! I don't like to stand in lines, but I'm somehow okay with other people standing in lines to see me.

Stephanie, me, Renae, and Erin reading some books.

After the event we drove very, very slowly and carefully to Glen Ellyn to visit with my old friend Eric and meet his younger daughter, Ari, for the first time.

Eric and Ari, being cute.

Tomorrow, we head in to Chicago, but for tonight we play Rock Band with Eric. I've never played before, but if I'm any bit as good as I was at Big Buck Hunter at the roadhouse with Mark and John, then we're in for a rough evening.

Brother Stephen is an excellent shot. I kept missing elk and hitting raccoons. And trees. And cows. And air.

Day 14: Minneapolis/St. Paul

2010-09-03T04:32:00.000-07:00

A taste of the art of Minneapolis.

Seeing old friends with whom you have a Facebook connection is a strange and new experience. Anna and I were good friends in high school, but she moved with her family back to Minnesota after her first year of college and I hadn't seen her since. We've managed to stay in touch even before Facebook, but since the advent of social networking I know when she's read a good book and she's seen pictures of my wedding. Catching up is a process of relating all the things that we're careful not to post to the whole world. It's a new kind of reunion.

In addition to catching up on the last decade or so, Anna presented me with a pile of writing I'd given to her when she left for Minnesota. All sorts of goofy stories and poems. I had no memory of most of the stuff and was a little surprised that Teenage Amy had been so prolific. I was not surprised to discover I'd written an entire poem about lint. Man, was I a weird kid.

Anna acted as our Minneapolis guide and we set off to visit The Red Balloon, an excellent children's bookstore in St. Paul, where we played with puppets and signed some books.

My career takes me to some very cute places.

Anna and an owl.

Marnie, Barb, and Susan at The Red Balloon.

After visiting the store we went to lunch and ran around the Walker Sculpture Garden, and then headed over to Wild Rumpus, another children's bookstore in Minneapolis.

Having had a not-so-stellar store event the previous day, I had braced myself for more disappointment, but when we approached Wild Rumpus the first thing we noticed was this.

You know a bookstore is going to be great when the bookseller has taken the time to draw your characters and put them in the store window.

You know it's going to be really great when one of the store cats is taking the time to read your book.

And you know it's going to be ridiculously awesome when the person who recreated your characters took the time to color in the backs of their heads. I LOVE WILD RUMPUS.

There aren't enough good things to say about this bookstore, so I'll let the pictures speak for themselves. Along with my comments under the pictures.

Tiles signed by authors and illustrators.

AAAAAAAHHH!! BRIAN FROUD!!! I can never meet Brian Froud, I'm too much of a deranged fan and there's a strong likelihood that my love will terrify him, just like it terrifies David Wiesner (I'll save that story for another day). But Brian Froud!!!

The ceiling of Wild Rumpus. The pictures don't do justice to the crazy awesomeness/awesome craziness.

Wild Rumpus is big on the store pets. I've seen a lot of bookstore cats, but cats were just the beginning of the Wild Rumpus menagerie...

Harriet the Tarantula (they found out she was a she after they'd named her.

Wild Rumpus co-owner Collette and one of their three hens, Ethel.

Is that terror you see in my eyes because I'm holding onto a live chicken? A little. Meet Carl Sagan, the hen.

Wild Rumpus employee Drew with a ferret whose name I think was Baby.

With a bookstore like this supporting my event, what kid could resist coming?

I gave my book talk for a great group of readers, their parents, and Ethel, who may or may not have been flattered to be inspiration for my art.

I don't know if I did her justice.

The Popularity Papers brings sleepy romance to the kitties of Wild Rumpus.

Wild Rumpus has definitely made it on my growing list of Best Bookstores Ever. Today we head out to visit a friend in the wilds of Wisconsin, and then tomorrow we head further east to Chicago. We've been on the road for two weeks and we have four more places to visit. Onward!

Day 13: Minnesota

2010-09-01T15:06:00.001-07:00

The picture of the Welcome to Minnesota sign came out a little blurry--this is from the Welcome Center. There were actually two posters to accommodate all the different languages.

We left Mitchell bright and early this morning to head east to Minnesota.

And by "bright and early", I mean "eerily foggy and early."

Our first stop in Minnesota (besides the welcome center) was in Blue Earth.

Blue Earth, MN.

Why did you go to Blue Earth? You ask. Here is why we went to Blue Earth.

He's jolly. He's green. He's rather large.

Ho ho ho.

After taking a bunch of inappropriate photos of Atticus with the Jolly Green Giant, we were back on the road, heading to our next stop, Austin, MN. Why did you go to Austin? You ask. This is why we went to Austin.

Yes, there's a museum.

Yes, the town of Austin totally supports its Spam Museum.

Behold. Behold the museum dedicated entirely to canned meat.

After watching a short movie called "Spam: A Love Story", we took the opportunity to run around the museum taking ridiculous pictures of Atticus.

Mark lifts Atticus (and a crate full of Spam).

This photo kind of weirds me out. Please feel free to post your own interpretation/reaction in the comments section.

Yeah. We put Atticus in a fake fridge with some plastic ham. We actually felt kind of bad about this, but not bad enough to not do it.

Confession--I've never actually tried Spam, and although I had the opportunity, I didn't try Spam at the Spam Museum. I bought some postcards, a gift, and a souvenir flyswatter in the museum store but I wouldn't try the free Spam chunks that museum employees were offering me. I wanted to, I really did, because if ever there was a time to try Spam, it's at the Spam Museum, but I just couldn't do it. The ghost of that hamburger in Omaha haunts me still and I wasn't about to get adventurous again.

Onward to Rochester, home of the internationally reknowned Mayo Clinic and this water tower made to look like an ear of corn.

All water towers should look like something other than a water tower.

The book event was to be at a Barnes & Noble in the evening, but we couldn't resist visiting a different Barnes & Noble first--it's located in what used to be an old theater and it's really neat looking.

The enchanted land of Readsalot.

Some events are wonderful because the booksellers are really fantastic at getting the word out (Puddin'Head Books!!! I love you Puddin'Head Books!) and some events are great because the kids who come out are really into the book (Kids Ink! Carolyn the Greatest Reader Ever!) and some are fantastic because old friends come out of the woodwork to support the book (Cover to Cover!) All events are amazing because Ohmygawd, there is my picture, there is a pile of my books, and they're on sale at this bookstore! That never gets old.

But some events...sometimes, because it's parent-teacher night at school, because I don't know anyone in the town, because because because just because, some events don't work out so well and I find myself alone behind a big pile of my books making desperate sad eyes at anyone who gets near to my signing table, and yes, that's what happened tonight. But I still signed a heap of books for the store to sell later, and met a really nice teacher who bought my book for a friend.

Oh Amy, you say, you must feel so discouraged. Not really, no, because every author I've spoken to has told stories of going through exactly the same thing.

Tomorrow, Minneapolis! I get to see my friend Anna for the first time in over a decade and visit not one, but two independent bookstores, Wild Rumpus and The Red Balloon. I can't wait to see what's in store for me there. Besides (ohmygawd) a pile of my books.

Day 12: South Dakota

2010-08-31T19:32:00.000-07:00

The Amazing Flying Atticus Phanaticus.

What's there to say about Mt. Rushmore that hasn't already been said? What picture could possibly be taken that hasn't already been taken and made into a postcard?

One with Atticus, of course.

Most people who see us toting around Atticus seem to just think that we're some weirdos with a strange green alien doll, but then there are those times, usually when we're at a big tourist destination, when someone will see us posing him and a huge grin will break over their faces. These are the traveling Philadelphians. They know what's up and it fills them with joy. Such is the power of the Phillie Phanatic.

Atticus and the Presidents.

Atticus leans on Gutzon Borglum, the creative genius behind Mt. Rushmore.

Atticus federally misbehaves.

After we'd had our fill of the presidents (as a native of Long Island, my favorite is Teddy, although I'm a little in love with Lincoln) we headed towards Wall, SD. Wall is a little town about an hour from Rapid City that is known for Wall Drug. Back in 1931 Ted Hustead and his wife Dorothy started a drug store in Wall. Business was terrible--Wall had a population of only 326 people and they were all poor--until Dorothy got the idea to put signs on the side of the road advertising free ice water. All of a sudden motorists came in droves and Wall Drug was a smashing success. Nowadays it's a tremendously schlocky tourist destination with famous signs that pop up all over the world, advertising the wonders of Wall Drug. Here is a small sampling--

So of course we had to go to Wall Drug. It was every bit as silly as we expected it to be, and more.

Wall Drug.

Our next stop was at the Badlands. For astonishing rock formations with such a scary awesome name I expected to me more frightened, but no, I'm still more unnerved by Wyoming than anything else. The Badlands seemed (in their own weird way) to be kind of friendly. Something about the sedimentary layers make them look like they were drawn by Dr. Suess. Mark took about a million billion pictures, but here's just a small sampling.

Atticus and I gaze upon the majesty of the Badlands.

Atticus salutes the Badlands with his nose-tongue.

The Badlands. Okay, maybe this part was a little spooky.

But look at these friendly formations! They looked like scoops of rainbow sherbet.

Some really weird-looking buffalo.

After we left the Badlands we were back on the open prairie.

Driving art photo.

Driving driving driving. The Great Plains are enormous. You get the idea.

We passed back into the Central Time Zone and pulled into Mitchell, SD. Mark (who planned most of our travel itinerary) picked Mitchell because it seemed like a good midpoint between Mt. Rushmore and the destination of our next book event in Rochester, MN. He also chose Mitchell because of this.

The Mitchell Corn Palace. Every year since it's formation in 1892 the people of Mitchell redecorate it with new corn murals. It also houses a basketball court.

2010 Corn Murals.

There was a hallway of photographs of all the past Corn Palace designs. PLEASE DO NOT MISTAKE THE PEOPLE OF MITCHELL FOR NAZIS. Truth be told, I like the older Corn Palace designs more than the new ones, when they focused more on adornment and less on mural art. With the exception of this one.

And then, to our great surprise, after a day of driving we were right back where we started.

Corny ending.

Day 11: Wyoming

2010-08-30T19:58:00.000-07:00

The speed limit out here is 75 mph, which is making taking pictures of signs a little trickier. Not that we're complaining.

After bidding a fond farewell to the hotel in Evergreen where we'd spent two whole nights, we drove into Denver to meet up with some of Mark's coworkers. Then we hit the road, and found ourselves in Cheyene, Wyoming by lunchtime.

The Wyoming State Capitol.

Atticus isn't huge on reading/obeying signs.

We didn't go in, because durnflabbit, we're not going to be those people from Philly trying on every cowboy hat. Besides, we'd already done that in Omaha.

We parked with the intention of grabbing a quick sandwich somewhere, and then we saw this--

I prefer to think that this cafe is named after the ancient city of Ur, instead of just being spelled in texting shorthand.

An Indian/Greek restaurant in the middle of Cheyene? We had to know, so we went in and met a real frontierswoman.

Meet Dahlia, the woman running the Ur Way Cafe. Before Dahlia's family opened the Ur Way Cafe Cheyene didn't have an Indian or a Greek restaurant. The family (from Egypt) decided, Oh, what the heck, let's just serve everything! The food was pretty good, nice and spicy and a welcome break from the fried brown stuff that we've been eating. There may be a lot of wind-weathered cowpokes in Cheyene, but there's only one little cafe where you can get chicken vindaloo and a falafel.

After lunch we were back on the road. Wyoming has always been a mystery to me. My knowledge of the state is pretty much contained to Dick Cheney and Matthew Shepard, so my outlook going into Wyoming wasn't particularly positive.

Wyoming is vast and desolate. We ran into a group of Belgians in a restaurant in Custer who cheerfully described it as "awful", but I don't share their sentiments. I was frightened by Wyoming--I'm a walk-to-the-supermarket, public transportation-lovin' city dweller, and in all my daydreams I've never once thought of myself as a weather-beaten loner on the high plains with just my horse and some sort of plaid shirt (in fact, I kind of believe that horses are bitey) (also cows) (I have no evidence whatsoever to support this wackadoo belief).

But despite my underlying fear of Tali breaking down and me being forced to roam the prairies in search of help only to be bitten by a horse/cow and/or run over by some oddly well-aimed tumbleweed, I could see that Wyoming is beautiful. It is breath-taking, and mind-boggling that all those people on the Oregon Trail made their way across this landscape. It's also mind-boggling that kids out here sit for hours on a bus just to get to school when there are two elementary schools within a ten-minute walk from our home in Mt. Airy. I have a noisy, silly soul and Wyoming made me feel like a goofy bug that could be easily squashed by the endless prairie and enormous sky.

I dealt with my discomfort by taking pictures of the road every three minutes.

Hey, look, a rainbow! This was the cause for much excitement until we realized that we were running the risk of turning into that guy from that Youtube video who freaks out for two minutes about a rainbow. Still, after a hundred miles of no rainbow, the rainbow was pretty fantastic.

Yeah, the South Dakota sign kind of crept up on us.

South Dakota. Not so different from Wyoming, until...

Woo hoo! The Black Hills!

And a buffalo! This buffalo totally didn't care that we were taking it's picture. It was all, "Grass. Eating now."

DEVIL DEER! DEVIL DEER!!! And I thought Wyoming was scary.

There is just no end to beauty out here. Or my ability to take a billion million pictures.

Day 10: Denver

2010-08-30T08:27:00.000-07:00

Dynamic topography! Hooray!

No book events, but Mark and I spent a day in the Rockies, where all views are amazing and made even more amazing by the addition of a small furry Phanatic.

Atticus views the splendor of nature.

Atticus contemplates the splendor of nature.

Atticus sticks out his odd nose-tongue at the splendor of nature.

Atticus humps up on the splendor of nature.

Descending the mountain, we took care not to run into this guy. Yes, that's a unicycle. Yes, he's going down a mountain. On a unicycle. With no helmet. We were kind of terrified to pass him.

Atticus in Golden, Colorado. On a buffalo. Not having a book event to go to leaves us a whole lot of time to run around taking pictures of Atticus.

After our high altitude adventures we went to Andi and Peter's wedding. I love a good wedding, and this was a very good wedding. Tears during the ceremony, laughter during the toasts, good food, good music, a very enthusiastic hora (if you don't know what a hora is, then I am sorry, because it is just the greatest wedding dance in the history of ever), and a traditional Swedish dance routine performed by Peter's college friends to an ABBA song. But the best part of it was seeing the bride and groom looking all full of schmoopy joy to be married to each other. It was wonderful. Everyone should be free to have a beautiful day like theirs.

Andi, Peter, and their adoring fans.

And then our nephew tried to jump in Evergreen Lake.

My brother, demonstrating his parenting skills by keeping his son from jumping into Evergreen Lake.

Day 9: On the road to Denver

2010-08-28T17:13:00.000-07:00

Have you always wanted to know what it's like to drive from York, NE to Denver, CO? Of course you have!

First, you get on the interstate in Nebraska. And then you drive a whole bunch!

This is what you see! A lot.

Then you get to Colorado! Hooray!!!

Here is where you go to the bathroom and collect brochures.

And then you drive through Colorado!

This is what you see in Colorado. A lot.

Also this.

Occasionally, you pass this! And then it smells like cow farts for awhile, which is very unpleasant.

And then you see some of this, which is better than cow fart smell.

And then ohmygodohmygodohmygod, are those the Rockies??? Then there's a lot of freaking out. It's so much better than cow farts.

And then you are in Denver, hooray!

Once we were in the city we stopped by the hotel that my brother and his family were staying.

My brother throws our nephew around.

Mark throws our nephew around.

Our nephew and niece throw each other around.

After we were done hurling our family members around Mark and I stopped by the local Barnes & Noble to sign some stock. What can I say, I just can't give up doing book events cold turkey. And by the way, the B&N people in Denver rock.

Michael, Amanda, and Patrick, super-friendly book people.

We are pooped, but extremely happy to be here and to be staying in the same hotel for two whole nights. Next book event--September 2nd, the Barnes & Noble in Rochester, MN at 7pm. Mayo Clinic--I'm looking at you to represent.

Day 8: Omaha

2010-08-28T02:54:00.000-07:00

Did you know we have Nebraska to thank for Arbor Day? Thank you, Nebraska!

For about five years, from when he was about 2 years old to when he was 7, Mark and his family lived in Omaha, NE. There's the house he lived in, the house down the block where his first girlfriend lived, the park where he used to play, and Stella's, this hamburger joint where his mom used to take him. Our Omaha event at Bookworm wasn't until 6:45, so after we bid a fond farewell to Sonia, Michael, and Bear, we drove straight from Des Moines to Stella's for a hamburger.

Atticus inspects Bear.

We leave Des Moines.

I can't remember the last time that I had a hamburger, but I'm going to assume it was some time in the mid 1990s. In 1997 I became a vegetarian, and in 2001 I became what Mark calls "a chickafishaterian." Neither of us eat red meat, but we were in Omaha, home of Omaha Steaks, and at Stella's, and dagnabit, when in Rome... (which is funny, because when we were in Rome we ate prosciutto).

Mark remembered Stella's as a real hole-in-the-wall where the hamburgers were served on napkins. When we got to the restaurant it was difficult to find parking and there was an actual line out the door of people waiting to be seated. When we finally got inside we could see that the place had clearly been overhauled a few times since Mark was there on the day that Reagan was shot. There were even a veggie burger option on the menu. But I was in Omaha, and I'd been hearing about "the best hamburgers ever" for a few years now, so I ordered myself a cheeseburger. It did come on a napkin, and it was enormous.

Stella's.

Real dive bars don't sell tee shirts.

My burger was intimidating, but not quite so large as this one.

About halfway through the tasty burger, I began to sweat a little, but I muscled through and ate the entire thing (and then pumped my fists in the air as a kind of a victory salute, but no one else at the bar seemed to think that eating an entire hamburger was fist-pump worthy). After lunch we drove around Mark's old neighborhood and he pointed out the sites to me.

"So that's my old house," he said.

"Beef!" I said.

"And that's where I went to kinder-care."

"Beef!!"

"Turn left here. That's the hill that my friends and I used to jump down."

"BEEF!!!"

My tasty hamburger had entered my digestive system. "And what do we have here?" My bewildered intestines asked.

"I AM BEEF!" The hamburger said.

My intestines pondered this for awhile. "How interesting," they finally said.

"I AM BEEF! BEEFY BEEFY BEEF! BEEEEEEEEEF!"

The intestines, accustomed to mild Poultry and gentle Fish, had no idea what to do with this assertive newcomer, and I spent the next few hours cramping up and emitting some truly horrific-smelling gas. I would like to publicly apologize to all the people who were at the Durham Museum in Omaha yesterday. I blame beef.

This museum is now a Superfund site.

After the museum we headed to the Old Market area of Omaha. I may have been locked in an internal battle with my lunch, but I could still appreciate how neat the city is. I like traveling.

A restaurant that Mark and his family used to go to on special occasions.

Omaha keeps it shady.

Betcha didn't know how pretty Omaha is. I didn't. It's so pretty!

Finally we headed over to Bookworm, where, for the fourth and probably last time on the trip, we ran into the Wimpy Kid van. It had been five hours since my hamburger and I felt that my stomach could handle a delicious popsicle. That's right, I finally got my popsicle.

Finally! Delicious.

Amy Ignatow, Attorney at Law.

The event went well--I did my talk and signed some books, including two for a friend of my aunt's who lives in Omaha but wasn't able to make the event (sorry Marti! next time). And then...back on the road.

Today we head to our furthest point west, Evergreen, CO, outside of Denver, where we will see my brother and his family and go to a wedding. Here's hoping the hamburger leaves my system before Sunday...

Day 7: On the road to Des Moines

2010-08-27T04:57:00.001-07:00

On the road again.

Yesterday was the first day since last Friday that there was no book event. Just Mark, Atticus, Tali, and me making our way from the hotel in Troy, MO, to our friend Sonia's house in Des Moines, IA, so we took the scenic route along the Mississippi before crossing into Iowa.

The first stop was in historic Louisiana, MO, where we looked at the Mississippi for a while.

This cracked us up in a sort of an eye-rolling We're From PHILLY, Don't Tell Us About Murals sort of way. Mark believes that Philadelphia's Mural Arts Program is on a mission to cover every corner of our city in murals, and that soon blank walls will become an endangered species.

Atticus and Tali, taking a break by the Mighty Mississippi.

The next stop was Hannibal, MO. Mark Twain is to Hannibal what Ben Franklin is to Philly. They looooooove Mark Twain in Hannibal.

Very weird looking sculpture of Mark Twain. Mark and I have been getting better at taking photos from a car moving 70 miles per hour.

Hannibal, just in case you didn't know, is where America is from.

Me and Samuel Clemens.

Mark took this picture to remind himself to fact-check the validity of the claim, "The First Coffee Shop West of the Mississippi".

Me with Katie, who works at the Java Jive. She lives her life in terror of someone opening up a coffee shop across the street.

We are attractive people on a vacation!

And then, onward to Iowa!

Okay, maybe we're not that great at taking photos from a car moving 70 miles per hour.

My father has warned us (and continues to warn us by calling every five minutes with more warnings) about how we are unprepared for travel through Iowa, and might actually die of boredom.

Iowa!

"Look, corn!" Mark said. "We'd better take a look, because we don't know when we'll see this again."

I like Iowa! I like all the sky and the green and the no traffic. Granted, we are having the nicest weather ever, and I don't think I want to live here, but I still like it. I especially like Pella, the Dutch town that Mark found.

For those of you who don't know, my mother is from the Netherlands, and all things Dutch make me happy. So when we entered Pella, all my road-weariness faded away and I went all hyper with joy.

Windmills everywhere! This one was on top of a bank.

Another windmill! And enormous wooden shoes!

Atticus tries on the shoes. Or the shoe.

Blue and white Dutch ceramics!

More wooden shoes!!!

How to make your own wooden shoes!

Mark and a clock. A Dutch clock!

This was The Big Windmill. It was pretty big. Atticus was impressed.

Too true.

Onward to Des Moines. By this point, we were both pretty tired of all the driving and I had exhausted myself by getting all hyper over everything in Pella. Sonia and her fiance Michael were waiting for us with an amazing meal (our friends have really stepped it up with the home-cooked meals on this trip) and we were glad to collapse on the couch and hug up on their dog, Bear. But not before we took these awesome pictures.

The cows in Des Moines are enormous.

This is the Capitol Building. We were convinced it was a Greek Orthodox Church until Sonia told us otherwise.

This picture doesn't really show how fantastically purple this car was.

Today we hang out with Sonia for a while, and then head west to an evening book event in Omaha. Sonia promises us that we'll be seeing more corn...

Day 6: St. Louis

2010-08-26T02:52:00.000-07:00

Where in the world is Atticus the Phanaticus?

It's pretty uncharacteristic for Mark and I to stay up very late. We're on some sort of farmer's schedule. If it hadn't been for the Phillies v. Astros game going into the 16th inning, Mark wouldn't have been up at midnight, and if it hadn't been for Mark still being awake, I wouldn't have had a good excuse to keep reading Mockingjay. We figured that we didn't have to be in St. Louis until our afternoon tour of the St. Louis Arch, so we were okay to stay up late and have a leisurely morning in Terre Haute before our three hour drive to Missouri.

A little after midnight EST my phone buzzed. "Who's sending me a text this late?" I asked Mark as I checked the phone.

Amy--Melissa from Pudd'nHead Books. Are you ok with your directions for your two school visits tomorrow morning? Sorry for the late text!

WHAT?

SCHOOL VISITS?

SCHOOL VISITS MORNING WHAT?

I don't know what happened. Jason and Melissa don't know what happened, but with a schedule as packed as ours, there was bound to be some sort of snafu sooner or later. Jason had mentioned possible school visits, but I'd never received a confirmation, and due to some email landing in someone's spam folder or something like that, I found myself suffering the Mother Of All Panic Attacks.

I called Melissa. "WHAT? SCHOOL VISITS? MORNING? WHEN? I'M IN A HOTEL IN TERRE HAUTE!!!" Melissa began to panic. I was supposed to be at the first school at nine the next morning.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!" I screamed.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!" Melissa screamed.

"WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?"

"IDON'TKNOWIDON'TKNOWIDON'TKNOW!!!"

"I MAY BE HAVING A HEART ATTACK!!!"

"MY SOUL HAS LEFT MY BODY! TELL MY FAMILY I LOVE THEM!!!!!!!!!"

"I NEVER SAW PARIS!!!!!!!"

"Tell here that we'll be there," Mark said in his calm, low voice.

"Okay, okay, we'll be there, don't worry." I said. "We'll be tired, but we'll be there."

Technically, had I gone to sleep right then, I could have gotten in a solid five hours which would have been plenty to function throughout the day. I'd have been tired, but fine.

Thoughts That Kept Me From Falling Asleep

1. WE SHOULD JUST LEAVE RIGHT NOW!!! WE SHOULD JUST DRIVE THERE NOW! WE'LL SLEEP IN THE CAR IN THE SCHOOL PARKING LOT! THAT WON'T BE WEIRD!!

2. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, I'm never going to get enough sleep.

3. I wonder what happens next in Mockingjay.

4. If I don't keep reading Mockingjay, someone is going to tell me the end and ruin the whole experience me.

5. Many details of the bits that I'd already read of Mockingjay.

6. Ah, almost asleep. Hooray for me! Soon I will be asleep and everything will be okay!!! Oh, now I've woken myself up with being excited about almost falling asleep.

And so on and so forth. It was a long night. I never got to sleep. The alarm went off at 5, and we were on the road again. I drove until the sun came up, and Mark took over.

Very, very tired.

At the point that this picture was taken, Mark and I had been listening to an audio version of John Hodgeman's The Areas of My Expertise. There's a part of the book where he lists 700 hobo names. We had no idea that there would be so many. We listened to the whole entire thing. I don't know what was wrong with us. It was sheer torture.

The Mighty Mississipi. I'd never seen it before. As awful as it was to drive for three hours on no sleep, I love seeing things in the morning light.

We actually made it in time to stop and have breakfast.

Then, having just traveled for three hours on no sleep, I met up with Melissa and went into Blades Elementary School and did a presentation in front of two hundred 4th and 5th graders.

Yup. 200 kids.

I think that if I'd had to do a small event, the sort of bookstore visit where maybe ten people show up, I wouldn't have done that well. But with caffeine and the expectations of 200 kids flowing through me, I was on, and it was so much fun.

A line! An actual line for a book signing!

After the first school visit Melissa and I stopped at Pudd'nHead Books and met up with Nicki, the owner, who is wonderful and great and fantastic (and not just because she gave me more coffee). She used to work with and is still good friends with Dan, my literary agent. She told me that John Hodgeman was also once a literary agent in the same agency. I told her about his 700 hobo names and how we'd listened to all of them on the way from Terre Haute to St. Louis, and how it made us kind of want to go on a killing spree.

Melissa and Nicki at Pudd'nHead Books, just hangin' out, reading the exact same book in a totally candid photograph.

Then we were off to the second event at Bristol Elementary!

Lookit me, being all school author visity!

Finally, at around 12:30 I was reunited with Mark, who had spent his morning exploring Forest Park (he's supportive of my career and all, but he's seen a ton of my book events and didn't want to be "that creepy guy in the back of the gymnasium" at a school visit). We had about five hours to kill before I had to meet up with Melissa and Nicki and a student reporter who wanted to interview me at the evening library event. What was there to see for two tired people in St. Louis?

Approaching the St. Louis Arch.

The St. Louis Arch is one of those things that I always have wanted to see. It was amazing. We may have been exhausted (Mark had slept a little bit during my Night Of Anxiety, but not much) but it was a beautiful day and St. Louis is a really pretty city.

I totally huged the St. Louis Arch. I may have fallen a little asleep while hugging the St. Louis Arch.

Yep, I went to art school.

The pod that takes tourists up to the top of the Arch.

View from the top.

View of us inside of the Arch.

After our amazing trip up the Arch, we went to see a movie about the making of the Arch. It's the same film that has been showing since the arch was first made in the 1960s.

Movie time!

I took this picture right before I settled in to watch the movie. And by settled in, I mean passed out stone cold asleep in the movie theater.

We had one more event to do, so we drove up to the St. Louis County Library.

Was there a Wimpy Kid van there? Yes! Did I get a popsicle? No, because I was too distracted by the sudden appearance of...

DAN!!!

Dan Lazar, one of the major driving forces behind the creation of The Popularity Papers.

My agent! My agent from New York had come to St. Louis! He scheduled his vacation to see Nicki and Melissa to coincide with my visit. I was bone-tired but I could not have been happier. What a fantastic surprise, and a great opportunity to feel like I was on Entourage.

Before the event I was interviewed by Lee Goodman, this local future Larry King. He brought me a flower. I'll have a link to his interview as soon as he posts it. Then, on to the library program.

Making nice with the local press.

Answering questions and drawing.

Dan, me, and Melissa. I adore her. We spent a good chunk of the day together and it wasn't until the very end that we discovered our mutual love of the movie Grease 2. I can't wait to come back to St. Louis and Pudd'nHead Books.

We would have loved to have hung out more with Dan, Melissa, and Nicki, but our hotel was an hour away in the direction of Des Moines, and if we didn't hit the road we were probably going to fall asleep and drive off of it. We said goodbye and headed north.

The lobby of the Super 8 in Troy, MO, or as I like to call it, Home Sweet Moose Head Home.

I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

Day 5: Indianapolis

2010-08-24T17:42:00.000-07:00

Indiana!

I am just a blogging machine today. This is how much I love you, my bloggy readers--I'm writing this blogpost instead of reading my brand-spanking new copy of Mockingjay, a book that I have been waiting to read since November 2008. FEEL THE LOVE!

I so am going to read this book. A LOT.

Today was a funny sort of day. Instead of being on the road for half the day we woke up in Indianapolis and had the morning to stroll around until Mark went to meet with the one of his coworkers at the Indianapolis office of his organization. We dropped by the Indiana State Museum and then parked Tali near Monument Circle. I walked Mark to the office, bought an enormous salad (it was from the salad bar at a grocery store and I may have overestimated the amount of spinach I can eat in one sitting), did some blogging, and ran around taking pictures of Atticus in front of the sites of Indianapolis.

Atticus in front of the Indiana sculpture by Robert Indiana.

Atticus in front of the Soldiers' and Sailors' Monument.

Atticus with the State Capitol on his head.

After the enormous salad and the tourism I met up with Mark and we went to Kids Ink. We got there a little early, so we walked across the street to a path that ran next to a canal. In the canal were a whole lot of ducks, and I kind of lost my mind and took ten thousand pictures of them.

Oooh! Look! Ducks!! Doing ducky things! So exciting!!

Wow! WOW!!! They just keep swimming and eating! THIS IS THE GREATEST THING EVER!!!

I'VE NEVER BEEN SO EXCITED!!! THESE DUCKS!!! DOING DUCK THINGS!!!!! Yeah, I pretty much went completely bonkers for about ten minutes.

When I got to the bookstore, it looked like there wasn't going to be a presentation. Kids would be trickling in after school, so I was supposed to just sit at a table and sign books when the kids came in, which was fine with me. I like doing the presentations, but it was nice to get a break and be able to just chat with kids and their parents as they came in.

This is Carolyn. She came in first, and told me that she had read The Popularity Papers six times. I cannot begin to express how great it was to meet her. When I told her that there would be a sequel, her mouth just dropped open. Carolyn, you're the reader that every author dreams about having. Honestly, I get a little misty thinking about it.

After signing some books and having a really nice time with the booksellers, Mark and I got back on the road, but not before passing by the Children's Museum of Indianapolis, which was being attacked by dinosaurs.

We circled the block to get these pictures.

But we did not stop to get out of the car and help. We're not insane.

And then we were back on the road, heading towards St. Louis.

Yellow car.

Play Ball!!!

2010-08-24T11:16:00.000-07:00

Victory Field! Go Indianapolis Indians! Or Louisville Bats! Either or. Go baseball!!!

If you live in Philadelphia, you have to like a sport. It's required. Philadelphia is known, for better or worse (often worse) for it's sports fans. There are the football fans, remembered for that time that they, en masse, threw snowballs at Santa Claus during an Eagles game. There are the hockey fans, known for that time that they loudly booed Sarah Palin in front of her 7-year-old kid. And then there are the Phillies fans, who in their delirious joy at finally winning the World Series for the first time since 1980, joyfully overturned several of their fellow Philadelphian's cars (we paid for it--I met the owner of one of the overturned cars, and his website, phillyfixmycar.blogspot.com gave him enough money to replace his trashed vehicle, plus more to give to one of the other victims of Phillies fan joy).

Mark and I are Phillies fans. You may have guessed that from the fact that Mark is rarely seen without his Phillies cap and we've been schlepping a Phillie Phanatic across the country. We are used to the Philadelphian way of watching sports, which is to be highly educated about every player on the field, chant and clap with all our hearts, scream until our throats hurt, and take everything that goes wrong as a personal affront. "WHY ARE YOU DESTROYING MY SOUL???" We have been known to wail to the umpire on the teevee who has made what we consider to be a bad call. Mark may be from Ohio and I may be from New York, but we are Phillies fans through and through, which is why we felt completely out of place at the Indianapolis Indians game last night.

At the game. I usually don't look this ghoulish, but lets just say my greenish tinge was due to my missing the Phillies.

We recognize that people, in general, do not put as much stock in minor league games as they would for the major leagues. It's a smaller field, a smaller audience, we went on a Monday night, but COME ON PEOPLE. SCREAM!!! YELL! FEEL RAGE!!! FEEL JOY!!!!!!! DON'T JUST SIT THERE. Oh dear lord, the Indians, which had been ahead for the whole game, were falling to pieces before our eyes in the 8th and the only real sentiment that it seemed to stir up in the crowd was one of mild disappointment. ARE YOU KIDDING ME???? THE OTHER TEAM HAS MADE 6 RUNS IN TWO INNINGS AND NOW IT IS TIME TO BEAT AT OUR CHESTS AND TEAR OUT OUR HAIR AND THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR THE WOMEN BEHIND US TO BE HAVING AN INVOLVED AND INCREDIBLY BORING CONVERSATION ABOUT ALL THE MEDICATIONS THAT THEY ARE ON!!!

But on the whole, it was still a fun night. We got to eat dollar hot dogs for dinner, watch the kid next to us freak out every time a foul ball came near us, and we saw Aroldis Chapman, this really amazing prospect, pitch for the Louisville Bats.

This is what I look like when I play baseball, or what I assume I look like when I play baseball. Or it's what I look like when I dance. Either way, I look awesome.

Today we're headed to Kids Ink for an event, and then making our way to St. Louis for the event at Puddin'head Books tomorrow evening. Stay tuned, dear readers, for pictures of Atticus trying to eat the Indiana State Capitol Building.

Day 4: Columbus

2010-08-24T03:33:00.000-07:00

Up to this point in my life, everything I'd ever known about Columbus, OH was

1. Columbus is the capital of Ohio.

2. Columbus is home to Ohio State, the university that my brother-in-law attended. It is a big college and they love buckeyes, which are chocolates with peanutbutter in them that you can get at Trader Joe's.

3. The coolest neighborhood in Columbus is German Village. I don't know if this is a fact, per se, but I read Jon Skovron's book, Struts and Frets, and in it he mentions German Village in Columbus a whole lot, so it must be cool.

And that's pretty much it. After saying goodbye to Heather, Jeremy, and Elli, we hit the road to Columbus. We got there with an hour or so to look around before heading to the book event, so we headed to German Village. Hi Jon! If you're reading my blog, we went to German Village because your book told us to. If you're not reading this blog, WHY AREN'T YOU READING MY BLOG?

We parked the car and started walking around the historical neighborhood and it wasn't long before we came upon a bookstore. You'd imagine that we wouldn't be so keen to go into it--all we do on this tour is go into bookstores--but you'd be wrong, because bookstores are great and we want to see them all.

Entrance to The Book Loft

The Book Loft is one of the wildest bookstores I've ever been to (including my own beloved Walk A Crooked Mile Books in Philly). There are 4 levels (not floors, levels) 32 rooms, and a different soundtrack in each room. I was in book heaven. My only beef with the store was that it did not have any copies of my book. What's up, Book Loft? I chose (as I often do in these situations) to believe that all the copies of The Popularity Papers were sold out and that they had more on order. Right Book Loft? RIGHT?

After lunch and free cheese samples at Katzinger's Delicatessen we headed to the book event at Cover to Cover Books. As in Cincinnati, we ran into the Wimpy Kid popsicle van--

Please give to the Purple Tongue Awareness Fund. With your help we can fight this terrible affliction.

And yet again, I did not get a popsicle. I've got to stop eating lunch just before a book event if I see on the schedule that a Wimpy Kid popsicle van is going to be there.

Hi Jeff Kinney! I'm picking Greg's nose. Because I am mature like that.

Two things I love extra about Cover to Cover--first, the Wall O' Authors

I'm not sure that it's actually called the Wall O' Authors, but that's what I'm calling it.

Fellow Amulet writer, Lauren Myracle

Amazing writer and email buddy, Ingrid Law

If you give Laura Numeroff a pen, she's going to want to write on your wall.

It was really amazing to see all the fantastic writers and illustrators who had been at the bookstore before me. Maybe this is what an actor feels when they get to Hollywood and see the handprints in front of Grauman's Chinese Theater. It's a little silly, but I was in happy awe.

The second thing that I love extra about Cover to Cover is that my friend, Jessica, came to the book event. Jessi and have been friends since we were in day camp and bonded over the mutual hatred/terror of the mean camp bus driver. We hung out constantly, our families used to have holiday meals together, but we drifted apart during high school and college. The last time I saw Jessi was on my last roadtrip to this neck of the woods in 2000 when my friends and I stayed overnight in her apartment. But thanks to the wonders of Facebook, we reconnected, and once a friend, always a friend. It was wonderful to see her.

Jessi is a ballet dancer. She's five inches shorter than me, but when I hugged her she was all muscle and I'm pretty sure she could break me like a twig. Fortunately she's very nice and wouldn't think to break me like a twig, but still, I need to get to the gym.

Another great thing about having Jessi there was that she could hold the camera while Mark was spotting me on the stepladder--

Li'l Bruce on a wall with Lauren, Ingrid, and Laura. Awesome.

After the event we got back on the road and drove to Indiana, checking into our hotel just in time to get to the baseball game. I haven't downloaded the pictures for that just yet, but tune in next time for Day 5: Indianapolis.

Tilda Report

2010-08-23T05:52:00.000-07:00

From Clyde--

Things are going really well! It seems Tilda has moved from sheer hatred to indifference!

We are so proud.

Days 2 and 3: Dayton and Cincinnati

2010-08-22T16:02:00.000-07:00

We leave Pennsylvania! Hello West Virginia. One day I hope to see more of your state than the couple of miles that we have to drive through to get to Ohio. Until then, thank you for legally allowing us to drive 70 miles per hour.

Ohio! Bellaire, OH, is the home of the Toy and Plastic Brick Museum. One day I'll describe the experience of going to the Toy and Plastic Brick Museum, but that's a whole entire blog post. Or novel. Or interpretive dance.

We hit 500 miles! We're going to play and sing along with The Proclaimers song every time we go another 500 miles. Will it get old after a while? Probably. Will we stop? No.

Ohio!

I'm a little punchy as I write this--this book event/visiting/sleeping in a different place schedule is something to get used to.

Here's a problem--every now and again, I get a bout of early morning insomnia. I'll wake up at the same sort of ridiculous A.M. hour (the same sort of ridiculous A.M. hour that was once my bedtime in my wilder, infinitely dumber younger days) and then I will just remain awake. I never have a problem falling asleep, just one staying asleep, and this is what happened at the Super 8 in New Stanton, PA. Hooray!

Fortunately I also have no tolerance for caffeine, which comes in super-handy when I'm trying to give a book talk in front of my in-laws and their friends and other booklovers of Beavercreek, Ohio, a suburb of Dayton that is the proud home of Books & Co. This was Mark's bookstore growing up, so it was kind of a big deal.

"Your speech was a little slurred," Mark told me, "but I think I was the only one who noticed."

The first signing of the tour!

After the event we headed over to my mother-in-law's yarn shop. For those of you that are asking if I knew how to knit before meeting Mark and his fiber-loving mom, the answer is yes. After our first date I told my knitting friends about him. This is what they heard.

Me: Blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah blah his mother owns a yarn shop.

Knitting Friends: HE'S PERFECT!

Behold, Knitting Friends. Glory in the abundance of colorful wool! GAZE UPON A SMALL CORNER OF FIBERWORKS AND WONDER!

I was like a kid in a candy store. Only I didn't put my mouth on anything.

After my father-in-law explained to me the differences between Fantasy and the many different genres of Science Fiction (who knew there were so many?) I was lulled into a glorious full night's sleep, and after breakfast we hit the road again.

"Excuse me?" You ask, "Kentucky was not on the tour schedule that I have committed to memory!" That's right, it wasn't, but we drove across the bridge that connects Kentucky to Cincinnati so that we could take a few pictures and I could call my father and scream, "GUESS WHERE I AM? I'M IN KENTUCKY!!!"

View of Cincinnati from Kentucky. Winston Churchill called it "America's most beautiful inland city." We're totally going to tell that to all the other cities we visit in order to instigate a fight. Don't blame us, Churchill is the one that said it.

I know we're only at the beginning of our journey so I don't want to make any grand, sweeping statements that sum up the experience. Having said that, you really do notice more when you're driving across the country than you do when you're flying. First of all, it takes more time. Second of all, you're not a thousand miles up so you really can notice things on the ground, like Cincinnati's weird love of rubber duckies. They're all over the rooftops and they're huge.

The duckies are watching you. Always.

According to the Google, Cincinnati holds a Rubber Ducky Regatta every year. They dump a huge load of rubber duckies into the Ohio River and the first one to make it past the finish line wins, and the owner gets a car. This year it's on September 5th. If I were a screenwriter I would totally make an inspirational sports movie based around this event. It would be like Rudy with rubber duckies. I've never seen Rudy, but I hear it makes dudes cry.

Mark and Ducky.

The event at Joseph-Beth Bookseller went pretty well. The turnouts so far have not been insanely stupendous, but the people who do show up are really enthusiastic and full of questions. It's so nice, especially when the bookstores are so beautiful and I get to sign books in front of a fireplace (WHAT'S UP, PHILADELPHIA? WHY DON'T WE HAVE FIREPLACES IN OUR BOOKSTORES?)

Me and Annette from Joseph-Beth. Apparently her daughter is a make-up artist for the touring production of "Young Frankenstein", and my roommate from camp was the lead designer for the make-up on that show. We have Facebook and my propensity to talk about anything to anyone to thank for that connection.

After the event we headed over to Lebanon, OH to stay with our friends Heather and Jeremy, who fed us until we went into a food coma. After we were able to move again we got to play with their daughter, Elli, who was fascinated with the camera function on my laptop.

Elli was holding onto a plastic toy knife, and this was one of the few pictures that I took with my computer that didn't make her look like some sort of slasher. She does, however, look like she's committing ritual suicide.

How cute is this kid? Kindly ignore the knife.

Then we busted out the actual camera and Jeremy and Heather threw Elli around for a while. It was a great night. Today we head back north to do an event in Columbus, and then continue on to Indianapolis. Mark found a hotel right across the street from Victory Stadium, where the Indianapolis Indians are playing the Louisville Bats. You bet your bippy that we're going. Hot dogs for dinner!

Heather, Jeremy, and an inverted Elli.

Day 1: New Stanton, PA

2010-08-20T17:53:00.000-07:00

Tilda, trying to keep us from leaving by hijacking our cooler. Poor thing.

We have set off! We are at a Super 8 in exotic New Stanton, PA. Mark has found an internet radio station to listen to the ballgame, and as soon as we get our internet fix we have ambitions to make some kind of hearty salads for dinner.

Thank you, rest-stop Burger King employee, for the free salad dressing packets. You rule.

I thought it was going to be kind of an easy-going day—Mark had already packed all his things, so all I had to do was finish packing, prepare the roadtrip food, a little vacuuming, and pack up the car. Easy peasy, right?

You never clean so thoroughly as when you’re about to have a guest stay over. Now Clyde isn’t exactly a guest—she’s a housesitter—but I still wanted to leave the place looking nice for her, and after I was done chopping up a massive pile of peppers and celery, I was seized by the terrible realization that our fridge was disgusting.

Why did we have three open bags of baby carrots? And dear god, is that what happens to baby carrots when they give up on life? And was that celery? Two bags of limp, yellowing celery that was—oh dear god—slightly gooey in parts? I became increasingly agitated with the thoughts that Clyde would invite my neighbors in to view the horror that was our crisper.

This set me into a frenzy of cleaning motion. I don’t want to pretend like I scoured the house—there was no time—but I attacked that refrigerator as if our entire future standing in Mt. Airy high society depended on it (we’re already on thin ice for not joining the organic co-op). By the time I was finished I moved on to the kitchen floor, and the garbage, and became the Tazmanian Devil of mediocre, half-assed cleaning until I was grimy and soaked through with sweat and dirty water. Nothing kills an appetite faster than cleaning a fridge. But I got the house looking relatively okayish, took a shower, packed up Tali, ate whatever was left in the fridge (a pair of roasted red pepper sausages which had seen better days), jumped in the car to pick Mark up from work, and we hit the open road.

Cruising down Rt. 76.

Atticus and one component of our dinner.

"Check out the topography!" Mark said. "No seriously, check it out, because soon enough it's just going to go away."

Lovely Pennsylvania. Tomorrow, Ohio!

Surf City

2010-08-19T18:59:00.000-07:00

Atticus and his new lifeguard friend guard lives.

It's been a busy couple of days. In addition to packing and prepping the house for Clyde, I had a book event at the Long Beach Island branch of the Ocean County Library. To be honest, driving for three hours was not on my list of Fun Things To Do the day before starting a major roadtrip. But it was completely worth it.

I grew up on Long Island about a five minute walk from the Long Island Sound. I love Philly, but I do miss seeing the ocean. I like sand in my toes and the smell of the sea and the sound of crashing waves and all that, but I rarely get the chance to visit the beach. It was really nice to arrive at the library early and walk the two blocks to see the Atlantic. With Atticus.

I asked the lifeguard if he wouldn't mind me putting Atticus next to him for a photo-op. "I don't think that's a good idea," he said. I understood. He had important swimmer-watching to do. "I'm a Yankees fan," he explained. "OH COME ON," I said, and he agreed.

"I wish I'd brought my Yankees cap," he said. "And you call yourself a fan," I said, "I'm carrying this furry green thing to the beach." "True," he said, "I've got to give you props." Now I think he's under the assumption that I carry Atticus everywhere I go. Which is mostly not true.

The water was so, so nice. But I had to get back to the library.

The program went well--I was pretty impressed with the turnout, considering it was a beautiful day and the beach is RIGHT THERE. But everyone was very friendly and it was very fun.

There's a lot going on at the Long Beach Island branch of the Ocean County Library.

This awesome girl had already read the book. She was my favorite. I told her so.

The librarians laughed at me when they found out the route I had taken to get to Surf City. I believe there was also some eye-rolling and maybe a small guffaw. They sent me back on a much quicker way, which lead me past this sign--

No. No, don't untie, or unite. Lurn how to spell!

And then guess what I did next before going home?

The first person to guess correctly gets a postcard...

Tomorrow we set out.

Counting down

2010-08-15T15:33:00.001-07:00

Mark and I are planners. We like to do research, discuss different options, and make lists. Lists are my favorite, and for anyone who has ever asked, "Are you like your characters?" the answer is, Sometimes, and definitely when it comes to the list-making.

We're leaving on Friday, and despite the fact that we're in kind of good shape, we're still nervous about getting everything done so to make what is going to be a very action-packed roadtrip as pleasant as possible.

How action-packed, you ask? Remember when I said about Jason?

August 20th
We leave Philadelphia.

August 21
Dayton, OH
Books & Co, 1pm

August 22
Cincinnati, OH
Joseph-Beth Booksellers, 2pm

August 23
Columbus, OH
Cover to Cover Bookstore, 1pm

August 24
Indianapolis, IN
Kids Ink Children's Bookstore, 4pm

August 25
St. Louis, MO
Pudd'nhead Books, 7pm

August 27
Omaha, NB
Bookworm, 6:45pm

September 1
Rochester, MN
Rochester Barnes & Noble, 7pm

September 2
Minneapolis, MN
Wild Rumpus

September 4
Rockford, IL
Wonderland Books & Toys, 11am

September 7
Pittsburgh, PA
Penguin Book Shop

In addition to all that, we'll be visiting family, friends, national monuments, and going to a wedding.

It's a lot to prepare for. I've met my deadlines, did an awesome book event in Harleysville Books, we've taken the car in for a tune-up, we've given our housesitter, henceforth to be known as Clyde, a tour of the house and several thousand warnings about the extreme badness that is Tilda, we've mourned the fact that our tomatoes are probably all going to ripen in the couple of weeks that we're away, made hotel reservations, collected audiobooks to listen to...

All that's left to do is

Laundry
Packing
Cleaning the house
Cleaning Tali
Trimming Tilda's claws
Grocery shopping for healthy extended roadtrip food so that we won't only eat Pizzaria Pretzel Combos the entire time
ONE LAST LOCAL EVENT IN SURF CITY, NJ
Come up with photo or illustration for this blogpost

Yeah, it doesn't have much to do with the blogpost, but I just want the world to know that in addition to sleeping on my work, my cat also drools on it.

We Bleed Phillies Red

2010-08-14T16:22:00.000-07:00

Today we (Mark, our friend Mel, and I) went to Citizen's Bank Stadium to participate in the Phillies Blood Drive. We went because we are noble, giving people. Okay, we happen to be noble, giving people, but we went because they were giving out free Chase Utley tee-shirts, we could have our pictures taken with the World Series and National Championship trophies.

Okay, we're noble, giving people who happen to like free stuff, but what we really wanted to see was THE PHANATIC HIMSELF. We even brought Atticus.

There were lines, and forms, and waiting, and more questions, and more lines, and fingerpricks, and blood pressure tests, and soon I found myself lying on a cot with a needle in my arm. And that is when HE SHOWED UP.

I took this picture with my free hand. I did not know how much of a close up I was about to get of the Phanatic.

The Phanatic, seeing Atticus, came over and pretty much mauled me with love. He danced for me, kissed me repeatedly, and then grabbed Atticus and made Atticus kiss me repeatedly until the blood technicians had to gently remind him not to move me too much.

I am extremely grateful for the tech who took this awesome pictures.

Mel, Mark, Atticus, and me with some well-earned trophies. Not by us, we just got stickers, orange juice, and cookies.

I recognize that this post doesn't have too much to do with the book or our upcoming roadtrip (by this time next week, we'll be in Dayton, OH) but I got smooched by the Phillie Phanatic and I want the world to know.

Mainline Art Center and Children's Book World

2010-08-14T15:50:00.000-07:00

One of the coolest things about doing book events at schools and camps is that I get to do a little teaching. Since starting off on this book-writin' journey I quit my teaching gigs, but from graduating from art school in 2002 it was a rare season where I didn't teach at least one class. I've taught heaps of art classes, I've substituted in high schools, and once I was even an SAT prep instructor. Although nothing beats the freedom that comes with working for myself in my own studio, I do miss getting in front of a group of kids and showing them how to do something. So on Friday I went to the Mainline Art Center in Haverford, PA, to talk about the book and show some kids how to draw cartoons.

Students diligently working. The assignment was to draw a conversation between two characters that they'd made up.

I can never resist a good monkey drawing.

After a while, you expect to see pictures of kittens and manga characters. This jellyfish was something delightfully new. Not a platylo, but still, pretty cool.

This is pretty much how I look when I'm happy with one of my drawings.

After having some fun with the kids at the art center I went to Children's Book World, one of my favorite local bookstores, to sign books. It's full of kids books, and I was too busy chatting with the awesome staff there to take many pictures. Still, check out this amazing bookshelf.

SWEET.

Camp!

2010-08-12T09:04:00.000-07:00

When I was thirteen my parents sent me to Buck's Rock, an overnight camp in Connecticut for dreamy artsy kids who weren't especially great at sports. The camp didn't advertise itself as a place where campers wouldn't be chastised for running in terror from a descending kickball, but I was a pretty typical camper, so...

I loved Buck's Rock. I was only there for one month when I was thirteen, and another when I was fourteen, but I loved every minute that I spent there (except for that time that I was giving a tour to some visitors and accidentally walked them through a hornet's nest, that was not a good time). But Buck's Rock was the sort of place where a kid could weld a sculpture or put out a publication or act in a Shakespeare play and be taken seriously. I credit those two months for really helping me with my self-esteem and social skills and life-view and love of the song "Brown-Eyed Girl", so I'm a big fan of good summer camps.

Yesterday I traveled to the wilds of southern New Jersey to do a presentation at Mountain Meadow, a two-week overnight program for kids and teens from LGBTQ families. I was invited to give a talk because Julie, one of the main characters in The Popularity Papers, has two dads.

Okay, here's the deal with Julie's two dads: Julie has two dads. That's pretty much the deal.

After doing a cartooning workshop with a smaller group of kids, I found myself in the main dining hall of the camp in front of all the campers. I didn't take any pictures because I wasn't sure about putting photos of kids up on this blog without their parents permission. I also didn't take any pictures because I totally forgot to bring my camera. Bear with me, I'm still pretty new at this blogging thing.

After talking a little about The Popularity Papers and doing a short reading, I answered some questions from the kids. They were smart and great and attentive, and then...

I started to draw.

A couple of months ago I was in DC for the American Library Association's Annual Conference. As part of the festivities, I was invited to participate in the "Drink & Draw", which is an event where a bunch of cartoonists drinking white wine stand in front of easels with big pads of paper. An audience full of people who are also drinking white wine yell out suggestions for 1) A character, 2) a setting, and 3) an activity. The cartoonists then furiously try to draw this character in this setting doing this activity and then the best drawing is chosen by a round of applause. I'm very happy to report that I won the first round by drawing Sarah Palin baking a cake in the Grand Canyon.

It was a great time, so I thought it would be a fun thing to do with kids at book events. Up to this point I've gotten some fairly easy drawing assignments; A bird in a castle singing, Lydia in a forest jumping over a hurdle, that sort of thing. So I said to the Mountain Meadow kids, "Who can think of a character?"

Hands shot up, and I picked the boy in the corner. In retrospect, I probably picked him for the amusingly wicked glint in his eye, and what followed was my own fault.

"A platylo," the kid said.

"A what?" I asked.

"A platylo."

This has to be some kind of manga thing that I just don't get, I thought. "And what is a platylo?"

The kid looked at me like I was the dumbest girl ever. "A cross between a buffalo and a platypus." Duh.

DON'T YOU CHALLENGE ME, INSOLENT CHILD! My brain screamed. My brain sometimes thinks it's in a Ridley Scott movie. "I DON'T LIKE YOU!" I yelled at the kid. The other campers cracked up and I began to draw.

The original drawing is still at Mountain Meadow, so I drew this one for the blog. And so that I can gaze at it in wonder of this awesome kid's brain.

I've never wanted to be a full-time teacher. I'm a cartoonist, and I'm happiest when I'm coming up with stories and drawing them, but I really enjoy the things that come out of kid's brains. I don't know Platylo Kid's name, but rest assured, this is just the beginning of his creation.

Heading over to Haverford, PA tomorrow for a program with the Main Line Art Center and a signing at Children's Book World, one of my favorite bookstores in the Philly area. This time I will take my camera...

Long Island Newsday!

2010-08-02T05:21:00.000-07:00

Back in June, the most amazing thing happened. The Popularity Papers, along with Tom Angleberger's The Strange Case of Origami Yoda, was reviewed in

THE NEW YORK TIMES.

Yes. The New York Times.

It was amazing. Growing up on Long Island, the two newspapers that were always in our house were The New York Times and Newsday. The NYTimes review came out on the day that we were all together at my father's house celebrating my grandmother's 90th birthday. That's right, I totally stole the spotlight at my own grandmother's 90th birthday party. She taken 90 years to get to that point, and I was all, "LOOK AT ME, THE NEW YORK TIMES SAYS I'M HUGELY TALENTED!!! Happy birthday, Grandma. LOOK AT MEEEEEEE!!!!"

My grandmother and some of her great-grandchildren, clearly enraged that I have hijacked her big day.

After the party was over (and I accidentally let a mylar balloon fly up into the top branches of a tall tree, prompting my father to remark, "Hugely talented, my *%#") I resigned myself to the bittersweet truth that unless I won some sort of Nobel prize I would never again do anything as awesome in my career as getting a good review in The New York Times. I might as well just give up.

Until...

LONG ISLAND NEWSDAY CALLED.

I'm pretty sure that this blog is read by eleventy-thousand or so people, and they've all been wondering why I went up to Long Island for about twenty-four hours to do no book events while my dad wasn't even in town. I was being interviewed! By a reporter! For Newsday! Here is the picture that was in the paper--

Okay, so it was superhot when I got to my dad's house and I'd been schlepping this big bag with my computer in it and I was all sweaty in an unattractive way so I took a shower before checking if there was any shampoo and when I found out that there wasn't I just used conditioner and then I tried to make up for the lack of shampoo by using a bunch of my stepsister's mousse and maybe I overcompensated and yes, that is why when my brother saw the picture the first thing he said was, "Did you get a perm?" I did not get a perm.

The article all about me appeared in the Lifestyle section of Long Island Newsday this weekend. You have to be a subscriber to see the whole thing, so I'll just paraphrase what was written.

Amy Ignatow, who grew up in Huntington and once played the role of Goose in her junior high school's production of Charlotte's Web, the Musical, wrote the greatest book ever. Everyone must run out and buy it and read it immediately. To do otherwise would be folly. She will be appearing at Best Bargain Books in Centereach on Thursday, August 5th at 6:30, and at Barnes & Noble in Carle Place on Friday, August 6th, at 2, hooray! The End.

It was something along those lines. So come out to Centereach and Carle Place!

I know, it's hard to believe, but even back then I was this awesome.

On top of Mt. Airy

2010-07-30T11:47:00.001-07:00

You know a neighborhood is amazing when there's a bookcase in the middle of the sidewalk.

There's no place like home. We're going to be on the road for a while, so I thought I'd walk around the neighborhood taking pictures so that when I mention something about my home in the future, you'll all have an exciting visual to reference. Also it's crazy nice out and I didn't feel like doing any real work.

I live in Mt. Airy, which is a neighborhood in Philadelphia. It's about twenty minutes outside of the center of Philadelphia, and was the first place in North America to grow cauliflower. It was also a good place to flee to in 1793 during the Yellow Fever. We're very proud.

Every morning Mark heads into Center City on the train. This is the Mt. Airy Station.

Cynthia and Greg from Walk A Crooked Mile Books, nonchalantly reading a book together that happens to be the book that I wrote. They had no idea that I was taking this picture. Because I am super-sneaky.

In what was once the Stationmaster's quarters of the Mt. Airy Station there is a used bookstore called Walk A Crooked Mile Books. In addition to being a fantastic bookstore, Walk A Crooked Mile is the gathering point in our neighborhood for summer concerts, yard sales, and people who need to take a train. It is also an excellent place to find great reads, provided that you love used bookstores, which I do. And it's the best kind of used bookstore--in addition to having stacks and stacks of books in little hidden rooms that you can get wonderfully lost in, Cynthia and Greg will offer you a free cup of coffee or tea or even cocoa just for browsing. And if you specify some sort of wacko obscure tea that you'd like, they'll probably have it.

View of the store from the stairs up to the second floor.

View of the store from another part of the store with more books.

Door to the bathroom.

They're not kidding about the bathroom. There's a toilet behind the curtain.

I love a place that's jam-packed with books. It makes me happy.

This is the main commercial drag of Mt. Airy--there are little pockets of stores and restaurants elsewhere, but this is where the possibility of traffic exists.

There were once trolleys that would take riders from Mt. Airy as far as South Philly, but now we use buses. It takes a little over an hour.

One of the best pubs in Philadelphia. I would have gone inside to take pictures, but apparently they're not open at ten in the morning. I'll just have to go back.

Earth, Bread & Brewery. They don't have pizza. They have flatbread with stuff on it. I know, it sounds annoying, but the food is really good. Especially the Seed flatbread. Order that.

Creshiem Cottage, the oldest building in Mt. Airy.

The Sedgwick Theater.

Our local Wawa.

I didn't know what a Wawa was before I moved to Philly in 1999, and when I first walked in, I thought it was pretty much just like a 7-11. NO, I was told, IT'S SO MUCH MORE. It's a 24-hour convenience store/deli where everything is inexpensive and good. Nothing is amazing (what do you want, it's open 24 hours and cheap) but everything is solidly good. Whenever we go out of Wawa range, we feel lost and sad, and whenever we see a Wawa again, we know we're close to home. I just looked for a map of where all the Wawas are and found this website--

Wawa 2010

So I know that my love for Wawa isn't totally insane. Or at least that I'm not alone in my totally insane love for Wawa. And Wawa loves us back.

Moving off the main drag, some examples of Mt. Airy architecture. Most of the homes around here were built somewhere between 1890 and 1940--our house was built in 1925 (and rehabbed two years before we moved in, thank goodness, because we have actual closets). A lot of the homes are made with Wissahickon schist, this gray, sparkly rock that was quarried not far from here. We have rowhomes and twins and single homes. It's a fun place to walk because every house is a little different.

Pretty, right?

People here are really into their gardens. I'm a little suspicious of sunflowers (there's a reason, I'll save it for a rainy day) but I'm always impressed by what Mt. Airyans can do with a small front yard.

Some rowhomes.

Some twins.

I'm pretty convinced that gnomes live in this one.

One of my favorite weird little quirky stories about Mt. Airy has to do with this row of houses on Allens Lane. At one point there was a frontage tax on new homes built on this road. In order to minimize it, or avoid it entirely, the Spite Houses were built.

The front of the Spite Houses.

A path leading to the backs of the Spite Houses.

The backs of the Spite Houses. Aren't they neat?

There's more to see, but I'll save it for another beautiful day.

Awkward.

2010-07-22T16:11:00.000-07:00

Is there any other word in the English language that has two Ws with only one consonant between them? That, in and of itself seems awkward. And so will this transition...

When I first saw my book on an actual bookstore actually on sale (instead of me putting my advanced copy on different shelves around the house and pretending that it was in a bookstore) (WHAT? IT'S EXCITING) I freaked out and took a picture and cried and maybe stared down a little kid for not immediately rushing to buy it.

The book hits the shelves! Taken at the Borders in the King of Prussia Mall. I know, there's a mall named after the monarch of a country that no longer exists. Wacky.

After I downloaded the picture and sent it to my agent (I believe the subject title of the email was "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!" or something like that) he said, "Did you offer to sign any?"

What? How weird would that be? Hi, I wrote this, and I demand you let me deface these books. How would they know that I was really the author? Maybe I'm just some lunatic with a Sharpie. But Dan told me that it's common practice, and a good thing to do--people like to buy books that are signed by the author. So from this point on, I could not go into a bookstore without offering to sign copies of my book.

Now I'm not a shy person by any stretch of the imagination.

Evidence of my complete lack of shyness. And my ability to entertain myself.

But it's weird to offer up your signature to complete strangers. It seems really egotistical, very Look At Me, and not in an awesome Look At My Awesome Dance Moves sort of way.

So I've developed this really awkward routine when going into a bookstore (like I did today in the Barnes & Noble in Huntington Station, NY).

Me: (standing at the Customer Service desk, holding a copy of my book, looking down and shuffling my feet) Hi.

Vikki (I looked at her name-tag): Can I help you?

Me: So this is weird, but I wrote this book.

Vikki: Great!

Me: So, um, do you want me to sign a couple of copies? I have a pen.

Vikki: Okay, great.

Me: I totally wouldn't be offering to do this if I hadn't written the book.

Vikki: Um...okay. Let me get the Signed By the Author stickers.

Me: (signing books) So...BLAHBLAHBLAHBLAHBLAHBLAHBLAH (I launch into some sort of story about nothing in particular, like "Is there any other word in the English language besides 'awkward' that has two Ws with only one consonant between them?" because I am just not a very cool person who is comfortable with just signing a couple of books and moseying on out like that's a totally normal part of my day)

Vikki: (nervous laughter)

Me: BLAHBLAHBLAHBLAHBLAH. (Now there is a line of people who actually need customer service behind me and I am done with signing the five books and I CAN'T STOP MY TALKING FACE)

Vikki: Well, thanks, and good luck with your book.

Me: (as I'm walking away) BLAHBLAHBLAHBLAH (until Vikki is out of earshot, usually when I leave the building)

So, an open note to all future bookstore employees who have to deal with me. I'm really, really, really sorry. I'm just nervous.

Also, a note to my stepsister Jessi: I am so, so sorry for setting off the house alarm this morning and waking you up after you warned me about it. Also so, so, so sorry for locking you out of the house. Today on the houseguest scale I rank somewhere between entire hair-metal band and poo-flinging monkey.

Magical Megabus Tour

2010-07-21T11:08:00.000-07:00

I know I'm not old. 32 is not old. 32 is like four 8-year-olds, or two 16-year-olds. Or even if 32 is like one 32-year-old, it's still not that old, and yet I feel kind of old right now because I'm blogging from a bus hurtling up the New Jersey Turnpike and it's completely blowing my mind. I'M FROM THE FUTURE. Look, I even took a picture of myself. I TOOK A PICTURE OF MYSELF WITH MY COMPUTER AND NOW I'M POSTING IT ON MY BLOG THAT I'M WRITING WHILE SITTING ON A BUS. IN NEW JERSEY.

Eight 4-year-olds

Sorry about all the caps lock action, I'm just a little freaked out by the advances in technology. I still remember when the newest development in travel communications was the Magnadoodle.
My brother and I used to sit in the back of the car writing messages to other motorists, like "Hi!" or "My brother is a doody!" And now I can just send an email from a moving bus in New Jersey to his cell phone in Texas. It just wobbles my brain.

Dadland

2010-07-21T05:51:00.000-07:00

Remember Jason?

I swear I'm not spending more time playing on Photoshop than I am working on the next book. I swear!

Because Jason gets the job done, I'm going up to my ancestral land of Long Island tonight. Why? You'll find out soon enough.

Making fun of my dad is one of my favorite things to do (along with my newfound joy of Photoshopping Jason's face to the Kraken's body). Don't get me wrong--my dad is great. He's smart and generous and hard-working and all that, but he's got too much free time and a billion different hobbies. Some of them are totally normal:

Playing soccer.

Gardening.

Listening to NPR.

Learning new languages.

And some of them are a little weird:

Finding an overgrown plot of land, taking the machete out of his car, and hacking a path in order to find wild berries that he'll later make into preserves.

Inspecting Persian rugs--he likes to flip them over and count the amount of stitches and rub them between his fingers and then utter some weird guttural sounds that he swears are the names of the regions where the rugs originated.

Peppering his speech with words from other languages and becoming sorely disappointed when I can't understand what he's talking about, and then saying them louder in hopes that volume will improve my multi-national linguistic skills.

Making homemade wine.

My dad asked me to make him a wine label. "Fine," I said, "what's the name of your wine?" He had no answer. Every month or so he'd say, "Where's my label?" and I'd say, "What's it called?" "WHERE'S MY LABLE?" "NAME THE WINE AND I'LL MAKE YOU A LABEL!" This continued for about a year until finally one day he blurted out, "IGNATOW JUICE!" So now he makes wine that sounds like it's main ingredient is a bunch of squozen relatives.

Unfortunately Papa Ignatow and my stepmother, Gail, are away on vacation, but he called from Canada to let me know that Of course you can stay at the house, just warn your stepsister, etc, and after a couple of minutes of talking about how polite Canadians are--

"I was shooing away a mosquito and someone waved at me! CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?"

he mentioned that I should probably stay away from the homemade Shiraz. "We think it might be toxic."

Nice! So back on the road I go. This time I'm relying on public transportation so that I can get work done while I travel. This book-writin' is time-consuming.

Dioramas! Pregnant ladies! Forestry! Antiques! An Enormous Octopus!

2010-07-19T17:29:00.000-07:00

Something I'm learning from keeping this travel blog--if I don't update the blog in a timely manner, a bunch of wacky photos pile up. And so, without further ado--

ALBANY

Here's a statement that I hope doesn't come back to bite me in the tushie: Mark and I are very punctual. It's true. We do not like being late for things. As a result, we tend to give ourselves plenty of time to get to where we need to be, which is why we found ourselves in Albany with with three hours to kill before we had to be in Troy for Tiffany's baby shower. So we went to the New York State Museum. In addition to being informative, it was free, and air-conditioned.

Did you know that sturgeon used to be referred to as "Albany Meat"? We did not. Other things that we learned:

In the winter, mastodons roam Upstate New York.

In turn of the century Manhattan, vegetables weren't purchased. They were won in staring contests.

It is very difficult for a moose to sneak up on me.

There is a historical precedent for subway riders in New York City to be cranky.

Sitting in an old-timey subway car is just as much fun as sitting in a modern subway car!

TROY

On to Tiffany's baby shower! I was too busy catching up with old friends to take any pictures. This, apparently, was not the case with my old roommate Bethany.

Little baby boy, behold your mommy.

SYRACUSE

A long, long, long, very long time ago my dad attended the State University of New York School of Environmental Science and Forestry in Syracuse, NY. I've never been there, so it was really cool to see the campus when we went to visit our friends Emily and Sung.

Hooray for Environmental Science and Forestry!

Emily, an excellent citizen.

Atticus, perhaps not such an excellent citizen.

First Barnes & Noble event ever! For me.

SCRANTON

After visiting with friends in Binghamton, we headed home to Philly. But not before we stopped in Scranton, PA!

Some of you might know Scranton as the city where "The Office" takes place and Joe Biden was born. But now we know it as the city where "The Office" takes place and Joe Biden was born and ALSO the home to Olde Good Things. If you look at the website, it looks like a fancy antique store. If you go to the national warehouse in Scranton, an amazing universe of crazy architectural remnants and inexplicable furniture bits.

We have a vague idea as to what this is, but it's more fun to make stuff up. You try!

This was one of the easier places to walk through.

We were a little overwhelmed.

We were completely overwhelmed. One day we'll go back with a plan and a truck. With our energy depleted by too much staring at awesome stuff, we went to Cooper's, a seafood restaurant that was featured in "The Office". The crab cake sandwich was delicious.

Mark in front of Cooper's.

Tali and some sort of sasquatch mid-confrontation in the parking lot at Cooper's.

And then we came back to Philly. Tilda missed us so much that she tried to claw Mark's hand off when he made the mistake of trying to put her down. It's good to be home.

Atticus

2010-07-19T15:32:00.000-07:00

Atticus!

We're back in Philly! We went from Vermont to Albany to Troy to Syracuse to Binghamton to Scranton and now we're back. Sure we saw my college roommates and friends who used to live in Philly and other friends of Mark's from his college days, and yes, there was a book event, and we visited my dad's old college campus, and a restaurant in Scranton where part of an episode of "The Office" took place. All good, important things that have been photographed and are noteworthy, and I'll get to them, but for now, I want to talk about this guy--

Up close and personal with Atticus the Phanaticus

Atticus is my Phanatic. The Phanatic, for those who don't know, represents the World Series Championship Winning Philadelphia Phillies, and is simply the greatest team mascot in the history of ever. Don't believe me? Behold--

ENOUGH SAID. Mark and I are fans of both the team and the Phanatic, and he gave me the gift of my very own Phanatic--Atticus. Atticus was born in Citizen's Bank Stadium at the Build-A-Phanatic shop, where I picked him out from a pile of floppy Phanatics and then some nice lady attached him to a machine that shoved fluff up his butt. Then I picked out his heart, made a wish on it, and the nice lady shoved that up his butt and sewed him up. Now he's that little bit of home that we bring with us when we go on these roadtrips, so I thought I'd best explain the weird little green creature that will be showing up in a lot of our photos.

Some introductory Atticus snaps. He's given to climbing on public art.

Atticus in Bennington, VT

Atticus in Syracuse, NY

Atticus being even less appropriate in Syracuse, NY

More to come as Atticus travels with us. Tomorrow I'll post about the rest of our trip (and yes, there's a photo of a sasquatch attacking Tali) but for right now there's a Phillies game to watch and a very needy cat to attend to.

Northshire Books in Manchester Center, VT

2010-07-17T02:46:00.000-07:00

On the sidewalk outside of Northshire Books

I always thought that the greatest thing about being a published author was that you could sit in your studio all day, wearing pajamas, doing what you love. Don't get me wrong, it's really great. Especially the pajama part. But there's so much more to being an author. I present my growing list of Perks I Didn't Know Came With Being a Published Author That Rule:

1. When people say, "What do you do?" you can reply, "I'm an author!" and then people say, "Oooh!" because being an author seems respectable, unlike when I used to have to say, "I'm an artist" which usually makes people thing that you're probably destitute and maybe a little delusional. I have yet to master the "I'm an author" answer without freaking out a little and hopping up and down, but I'll get there. Maybe.

2. When you go to conferences, people just give you free books. I had no idea that this would happen. It blew my mind. There would be a pile of books at a booth, and then someone would say, "Here, take one," and I would start to hyperventilate, "ARE YOU KIDDING ME? REALLY? YOU'RE SERIOUSLY JUST GOING TO GIVE ME THIS BOOK? AND THIS TOTEBAG TO PUT IT IN???"

3. You get to visit the coolest bookstores. I never before knew that Northshire Bookstore existed (or that there was a place called Manchester Center in Vermont) but now that I've been there, I want to live there. It's one of these bookstores that seems normal-sized from the outside but just goes on for miles and miles on the inside. And it's not cavernous--every area seems designed for a reader to find their perfect book. So excited to go on the big roadtrip now to see more bookstores.

Still working on looking authorly

After the book event we headed to Bennington, which was hugely exciting to me. Here is why: One of my favorite books in the world is Donna Tartt's The Secret History. If you haven't read it yet (and you're over the age of seventeen, which was how old I was when I read it the first time), carve out a weekend for yourself and just lose yourself in her amazing storytelling. I don't usually go all starry-eyed when I meet famous people (except for David Wiesner, David Wiesner, I'm so sorry that I freak out every time I meet you, but that's a subject for another blog post) but if I ever met Donna Tartt I think I might just go catatonic.

Bennington!

Just like Chicago is full of cows, and Philadelphia is full of Phanatics, Bennington is full of Mooses. Meese. Meeses.

Anyhoo, The Secret History takes place in Hamden College in Hamden, Vermont. This is not a real place. But Bennington College in Bennington, Vermont is a real place where Donna Tartt went to college. Mark drove us around the campus of the college while I yelped, "Look, look, there are the white clapboard dormitories with the green shutters that Richard loved so much! That was the beginning of his undoing! Look, there are paths going into the woods! That was the beginning of their undoing!! Omigawd, there's the music building! I don't remember it from the book but it's really neat looking and probably had some hand in their undoing!" Mark hasn't read The Secret History, and is a very patient and indulgent husband.

We also visited the Bennington Battle Monument, which is this enormous obelisk that is dedicated to the 1777 Battle of Bennington, which actually happened in nearby Walloomsac. Still, it's very large and impressive.

Very large and impressive monument

Mark and a sculptural representation of Brigadier General John Stark enjoy pointing.

Brigadier General John Stark was totally not messing around.

Tali enjoys the view.

Today we're heading to Troy, NY for Tiffany's baby shower, and tomorrow we'll be in the Barnes & Noble in Dewitt, outside of Syracuse. Farewell for now, Vermont, you pretty, pretty state.

The Yellow Car Game

2010-07-16T17:42:00.000-07:00

Greetings from misty Vermont! Tomorrow I'm going to download some of the photos that we took today, but for now I think it's important to explain The Yellow Car Game.

Last year, not long after we'd purchased Tali, Mark and I began calling out "Yellow car!" whenever we saw one. It quickly became a friendly competition--whomever called "Yellow car!" first won.

We came up with some rules, mostly about What Vehicles Don't Count:

No tractor-trailers.
No cabs.
No construction or official state vehicles.
No DHL or Penske trucks.
No school vehicles (sorry Yellowbird buses).
No yellow shirts. (Early on Mark would see someone with a yellow shirt and call it if he hadn't seen a yellow car in a while. This was quickly forbidden, but he was delighted after we taught Yellow Car to our friend Anand who immediately began to call yellow shirts. It's a very tempting thing to do.)

Vehicles That Count

Yellow cars.
Yellow motorcycles.
Yellow boats.
Yellow bicycles.
Any yellow mode of transportation that isn't on the Vehicles That Don't Count list. We haven't seen yellow rollerskates yet, but they would totally count.

Pretty simple, right? After Mark's brother taught us the Klingon word for "Congratulations" ("K'plaa"--I think it directly translates into "I honor you" or something like that) someone would say, "Yellow car!" and the other person would say, "K'plaa!" It wasn't necessary to say it, but it was a nice thing to do. A few months after we'd been K'plaaing each victory, Mark's brother taught us how to say, "I am shamed" or something like it in Klingon, which is "P'tach". So if one of us called, "Yellow car!" and then realized that it was a taxi cab, they would hang their head in shame and say, "P'tach".

We got really, really good at spotting yellow cars. We learned to see yellow cars behind other cars, in the reflections of storefront windows, in rearview mirrors. We were so good that we'd smoke anyone else who dared to try to play with us (Anand). We were Yellow Car Masters.

That's when Mark came up with a new way to play Yellow Car. If one of us could call four yellow cars in a row (without the other player breaking the streak, or accidentally calling a Penske truck), it would be a Home Run. And the winner of the Home Run would get to choose a song, and the loser would have to sing it, using only the word "K'plaa" in place of the actual lyrics. If two players call "Yellow car!" at exactly the same time, the count is placed back to zero.

Some Klingons singing "My Little Buttercup"

This amped up the competition. A LOT. One of us would call three in a row, and the other one would be searching desperately for the next yellow car in order to avoid having to sing "Take Me Out To The Ballgame" in Klingon. It got so competitive that we made a rule that either of us, at any time, can call "Exhibition", which means playing the old, K'plaa-song free way.

So now you know the rules of Yellow Car. Today Mark got two Home Runs (I had to sing Meatloaf's "I Would Do Anything For Love But I Won't Do That" and "Movin' Right Along" from The Muppet Movie) and I won twice (he had to sing "Lady in Red" and "Bridge Over Troubled Water").

Play at your own risk.

How do you solve a problem like Mathilda?

2010-07-14T06:19:00.000-07:00

Mark and I are pretty lucky. He works for a great organization where he can take off enough time to join me for our big Midwestern tour. We have great neighbors who are more than willing to look after our house and it shouldn't be too much of a problem to just pack up and leave for a couple of weeks.

Except for Tilda.

This is Tilda, our cat. Isn't she cute?

Mathilda Phlash Ignatow-Graham

She looks really peaceful, right? That is because she is asleep. Here are a few pictures of what it is like to work in a studio with Tilda around.

Tilda requires a ridiculous amount of attention. This is her signature WHY ARE YOU WORKING WHEN YOU SHOULD BE PAYING ATTENTION TO MEEEEEEEEEE move.

If I don't let her sit in on my lap while working, she will find another place.

Sometimes I just give up and let her sit on my lap while I work.

And some times I just give up and stop working.

Tilda loooooves me and Mark, which is great. The real problem is that she will turn into the Worst Cat In The Entire World around anyone else, and the Worst Cat In The History Of The Entire Universe to hapless friends who have, in the past, generously agreed to catsit when we're away.

Here are some testimonials from friends who have sworn to never, ever, never, ever catsit again--

While rinsing her food dish in the kitchen sink I turned to see Tilda sitting in the doorway, glaring at me with hatred. Pure unadulterated hatred. "Hi, Tilda." "Hiss, hiss, growl, growl, hiss, hiss." "Do you miss Mommy and Daddy?" "hiss, hiss, growl, growl, hiss hiss, hiss." She looked directly into my eyes and I began to freak out a little bit. I slid along the wall with her full dishes trying to sweet talk her and she hissed, hunched her back and bared her teeth at me. I put the dishes down and began to slide back along the wall to the kitchen. That's when it happened. With insane sounds emanating from deep in her gut, she lunged at me, claws and teeth out for blood. I picked up something from the floor to beat her back and ran to safety in the kitchen as she flew off into the living room. I called my sister to tell her what happened and she yelled "Get out! Get out now!" I grabbed my things and ran. --Marci

It was like being trapped in a pit with an enraged venomous snake. --Val

Artist rendition of what Marci and Val experienced.

We've finally found an excellent catsitter--a friend who works in a veterinary clinic. She did a great job of taking care of Tilda while we were in Washington, DC for the ALA Annual Conference--

which is to say that she wasn't terrified into swearing to never, ever, never, ever catsit again. We'll be posting updates from Jen about Tilda's state of being while we're away. If you're the praying type, perhaps you might want to say one for Jen.

Touring 101

2010-07-13T17:39:00.000-07:00

I've never been on a big book tour before. Actually, I've never been on a book tour at all--so far, since The Popularity Papers was published in April, I've only done a few appearances in schools, bookstores, and at conferences. So I thought it would be good to get a little mini-tour in before the big trip to Denver.

So I bet you're wondering, How does one plan a tour? You start with this guy--

His name is Jason and he's the Director of Marketing for my publisher, Abrams Books. It's his job to get the word out about The Popularity Papers, and he's really good at what he does. Really, really good. Scary good.

Here's how a tour starts--

And then this happens--

The next thing I know, my inbox is flooded with fifteen emails with possible bookstores and libraries and schools to visit, because when I say, "I've been thinking about going somewhere and I might have some time to do a book event there" Jason hears, "RELEASE THE KRAKEN!"

The Kraken, for those who don't know, was an ancient sea creature from ancient Norse mythology that inexplicably found it's way into ancient Greek mythology in the 1981 movie Clash of the Titans. In that movie the head boss god Zeus wants to demolish the land of Argos and tells his brother Poseidon to "RELEASE THE KRAKEN!" and, like Jason, the Kraken gets the job done.

The Kraken. Jason looks nothing like the Kraken and is much nicer,
having never (to my knowledge) destroyed a kingdom or even a suburb.

And this is how a simple overnight trip to upstate New York to attend my college roommate Tiffany's baby shower turned into a four-day mini-tour. Mark and I are going to put our road-tripping skills to the test. Our first stop will be at Northshire Bookstore in Manchester Center, VT on Friday. I'll be doing a reading and signing books from 2 - 4, so if you're in the area, come on by!

The Popularity Papers goes West!

2010-07-08T18:22:00.000-07:00

Hi!

My name is Amy Ignatow and I wrote a book called The Popularity Papers: Research for the Social Improvement and General Betterment of Lydia Goldblatt and Julie Graham-Chang. When I wrote The Popularity Papers: Research for the Social Improvement and General Betterment of Lydia Goldblatt and Julie Graham-Chang I thought it would be hilarious to give my book a super long name.

I did not imagine that I'd be saying "The Popularity Papers: Research for the Social Improvement and General Betterment of Lydia Goldblatt and Julie Graham-Chang" as much as I do, but I'm going on tour this summer to promote the book, so I'd better learn how to say it without my eyes rolling into the back of my head from the effort.

Anyhoo, this is my blog. My husband and I are going to be driving our bright yellow car from our home in Philadelphia to Denver and back this summer to promote The Popularity Papers: Research for the Social Improvement and General Betterment of Lydia Goldblatt and Julie Graham-Chang (oh, let's just call it "The Popularity Papers" from this point on) and I'll be keeping this blog on the journey.

For future reference:

Mark: husband
Tilda: our cat, who is mostly terrible
Stonewedge: what we named our house, which is made of stone and on a strangely triangular plot of land
Tali: our car, and subject of the hit song "Tali the Bumblebee"

(oh, you've never heard it? It goes something like this)

Tali, the Bumblebee
She gets us from Point A to Z
She'll drive from sea to shining sea
She's Tali the Bumblebee!
(vroom vroom vroom vroom vroom vroom)
Tali ho!

This is going to be fun.