Well, I'm off. The Barnes & Noble event in NYC was standing room only, and the reading at the New Canaan library sponsored by Elm Street Books was a great success as well. Suddenly I know what a Green Room looks like and what it feels like to be around lights and cameras and what …
Well, I’m off. The Barnes & Noble event in NYC was standing room only, and the reading at the New Canaan library sponsored by Elm Street Books was a great success as well. Suddenly I know what a Green Room looks like and what it feels like to be around lights and cameras and what it is to wear lots of mascara (not to mention talk to a US president’s former Press Secretary!) It all sort of feels like day surgery. You get escorted down long halls by caring nurse-types who know you might be a bit nervous and offer you tea and water. And then you meet the doctor, but at the count to ten, rather than going off to lala land, you are answering tough questions about marriage, and living in the moment, hoping to help someone out there whose face you can’t see. Once we get going, it feels natural and grounding. Even in the radio studio when I’m spending a large part of my time not thinking about Frasier and Ros.
And then there are the readings. They feel like weddings. But a bit like Father of the Bride because there is the cast of your life– grade school, high school, college, the cities you’ve lived in, friends of your parents. People out of context– a dog-sledder friend from Seward, Alaska on the Upper East Side in NYC. And the act of mutually receiving each other’s faces after 10, 20, 30 years and processing the effects of age. It’s so thrilling, and yet sad, because I want to take each one out for coffee and catch up. But I’ve got a train to catch or a flight. I’m on a “business trip.” But really, it’s the ride of my life.
And then there are the people I don’t know. Who read my essay in the New York Times last August, or who just want a warm place to sit for an hour. I’m so grateful for those people too. One woman came up to me shaking and told me that I’d inspired her not to quit writing. How can I not stand up and hug this woman and forget about the rest of the line of people waiting for signatures. But I give her the smallest words I can in the biggest way I can, and in respect to the others, move on. That part is not natural. Not at all.
And this blog. I read your comments in transit, and am so thankful for your vulnerability and your stories. But no time to respond– not on this trip. Please know I am reading and will do my best to answer you after this “business trip” is over. I am so thankful to you all and for your support.
yrs.
Laura
