First, the airport. Signage is important, always, at airports.
While in NYC, I had to recreate my first Sharpie guitar so that I'd have one to give away both in New Jersey and in Toronto. Some quick hotel Sharpie-ing . . .
At one point, housekeeping came into the hotel room.
HOUSEKEEPING: Those guitars are lovely! Are they yours?
ME: Who . . . who else's would they be?
HOUSEKEEPING: Some of the guests here have guitars provided in their rooms for them.
WHY DID I NOT HAVE A GUITAR PROVIDED TO ME?
I had an impressive view from my guitar-providing hotel: I could see both up the Empire State Building and directly into a very expensive apartment across the street. I spent hours creepily watching the beautiful couple who lived within, enjoying the world's sketchiest soap opera. Look at him! He's tying a skinny tie in front of that antique mirror! Look at her! She's beautifully reading a book on her white canvas couch!
Don't judge me. I took a photo of their orchid for you. With a giant telescoping lens.
I feel marginally bad.
No, I don't. That's why there are curtains in this world and the next.
After NYC, there was some New Englandy stuff. I have some pretty definite ideas about many of Connecticut's residents. Connecticut did little to argue with me.
From New England, it was down to DC for the National Book Festival. I was put up in a horror film set:
And the next morning a national monument grew out of my head.
I saw this in DC, too. What's everyone else's excuse?
I then jumped on a plane for Toronto. I have no idea why this is the only photo I have from Canada.
My next stop was Traverse City, Michigan. A reader begged me to visit her guitar shop, Zamar Guitar, which I duly did, hoping for a big, Oprah-esque surprise appearance. In actuality, the man behind the counter professed ignorance of not only me, but also her, and possibly guitars in general. It was all very anticlimactic. But I took a photo as proof.
Then it was to Naperville, IL.
I . . . I don't know what's wrong with me. This seemed like a really good idea to Becky and I at the time.
Working my way west, I hit Denver and then ditched my rental car to drive to Salt Lake City. There was no mistaking the state line between Colorado and Utah. That asphalt line is a thing of precision beauty.
Probably I can't really explain how stunning Utah was.
And how NOT-EAST-COAST it was. It really felt like I'd traveled to a different country.
Lover flew out to join me in California, where I took him to see the redwoods at Muir Woods. These trees > other trees.
And I stood inside a tree, like they all did in THE RAVEN BOYS (although I had no visions, other than that of a cedar closet, which is what it smelled like).
I finished up the year in Las Vegas, where Scholastic rented me a red convertible Camaro for my birthday, and I escaped into the wilderness.
Here is a photo of my editor David Levithan taking a photo.
And here are more beautiful things.
Because I'm finishing up the sequel to THE RAVEN BOYS, expect other similarly lazy blog posts for the remainder of the year. I'm thinking there's gonna be a lot of BEST OF 2012 stuff going on here. Books. Music. Knock knock jokes?
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