Mini-Tour Madness (Part I)

Good morning, all. Last week I was tromping up and down the West Coast with Richelle Mead, tagging along on the first leg of her Mega Tour Of Death. Seriously, she’s traveling for more than 20 days, with events almost every day and very few breaks. The woman is either insane or superhuman, quite possibly both. Oh, and she has great taste in music, too.

The trip started out on Tuesday last week, when I had to get up early and roust all the kids so Coyote Boy could drive me to the train station. (Vancouver’s AmTrak station is actually pretty, what with the new rosebushes and the benches gotten out of storage.) Yes, I cried after my babies were driven away and I couldn’t see them any more. I’m not too proud to admit it.

I love riding the train to Seattle, especially if I spring for a business class ticket. (I did pay for an upgrade. It’s money well spent.) The scenery is beautiful, and in business class things are generally very quiet. Given that most of the time people are up early ad maybe uncaffeinated, it’s probably in self-defense. About halfway through I went to get a bagel, and settled down in the cafeteria car. Where I had a stroke of writerly luck–there were three Amtrak employees, all on a break.

In other words, material. I tried not to appear like I was eavesdropping as I read the Economist and made furious mental notes about train slang.

Anyway, after a leisurely ride we got to Seattle, and my sister was waiting to pick me up at the station. (She’s a trooper too.) We marveled at the drop ceiling covering up the higher, more ornate plaster ceiling–and the places where you could peer through–while waiting for my luggage. Then it was off to Ballard for lunch, and quizzing our waiter on where the hell Archie McPhee had gone. (Hint: They moved to Wallingford.) I was able to go a little crazy there, and buy a bag of swag. Which I promptly gave away at the University Bookstore, where our first event was.

Now, a long long time ago, Duane at the UB brought Richelle and me together–I think it was, oh, maybe when Succubus Blues came out? (If you haven’t read Richelle’s Georgina series, you are so in for a treat.) We immediately hit it off.

No, you don’t understand. Richelle and I are Trouble with a capital T when it comes to events. We soft-shoe and give each other straight lines all the time. I’d even go so far as to say we’re hilarious. So it was kind of like being reunited with an old vaudeville partner–one who knows and understands my horrific stage fright, and gives me an encouraging smile whenever I falter. Because she’s so utterly nice, too.

Richelle and I both read, then it was time for Q&A. I’m told there was an overprocessed gentleman hanging out in back who kept saying we were taking too long, that we shoudl just sign because he wanted to get out of here. He was so vocal, in fact, that a fellow member of Team Seattle informed him “Some of us are trying to listen,” and gave him a glare. (I’m told another member of TS tweeted about him.)

The weird part is that, while we were signing, I saw this guy and immediately pegged him as trouble, and kept him in my peripheral vision the entire time he was talking to Richelle. Just in case. He behaved himself, mostly, I suspect, because 6-foot-plus Duane was there looming over us and making certain things went smoothly.

It took a while, but we finished up signing and Richelle had to jet to make it to her Redmond event. I stayed to sign stock, and then Mark Henry, Mark Teppo, and Psynde (who makes jewelry for the Vampire Academy series) kidnapped me and my sister for dinner at Cedars.

If you’ve never had the opportunity to go to dinner with the two Marks, you’re missing out. If you do have the chance, OMG go, but be warned. The snark is industrial-grade, and this occasion was no different. When one adds in my propensity to say things that are so totally not socially acceptable, and Mark Henry’s serious consideration of absolutely every thing said no matter how filthy…well, you get the idea. It was too much fun to be legal. I’d go into a brief series of topics we covered, but I think my computer would start blushing.

I was too pooped to party much, so after dinner we walked back to the bookstore and said goodbye four or five times. In the process of getting out the door, Mark sold me on Liz Williams’s Snake Agent, the first of the Detective Inspector Chen series.

OH. MY. GOD. Where have these books been all my life? I absolutely adored this one, and can’t wait to read the rest of the series. (Mark, damn you, I need more reading material like I need a hole in the head. JEEZ.)

My sister and I finally got on the road, and she dropped me off at my hotel near the airport. We hugged, and I thanked her a million times for chauffering me. We would have checked out the hotel bar–she’s related to me for a reason–but I had to be up at 4AM to catch the flight to Ontario, CA.

I didn’t even know there was an Ontario in California. But that’s a story for tomorrow…

Posted from A Fire of Reason. You can also comment there.