September 30th, 2006
Such a huge throng showed up for my reading last night at Malaprop’s that we had to scrurry and rig up a bigger screen, because the tiny living room-sized one was clearly not going to suffice.
It was a very lovely evening. People asked some difficult questions, like, how did writing Fun Home change me. It’s like having therapy in front of a crowd.
Here’s how pretty Asheville is at the ungodly hour I at which had to arise this morning.
As soon as I pack my tents, I’m going back to my favorite airport, ATL, en route to St. Louis. Maybe on the flights I’ll have time to finally read all the comments on the Michigan Fest brouhaha, which I now see number three hundred and two.
September 29th, 2006
I had a really nice reading last night at Books and Books. Actually, it was at the Design Within Reach store next door, which is a furniture showroom. So everyone sat around on these groovy modern couches and chairs, like we were in a big living room. And there were a lot of people there because the Gay and Lesbian Chamber of Commerce sponsored it, and many of their members came. I love the Chamber of Commerce! I like just saying it. Chamber of Commerce.
(Right now I’m at a Chili’s in the Atlanta airport. The waitress just asked “What can I get you, sir?” Usually people say “I’m sorry” once they hear my voice. But she just came back with my coke, “Here you go sir.” It’s 10:45 in the morning and I’m having a hamburger because this is the only restaurant on the concourse and that’s all they have.)
The Atlanta airport is full of soldiers—lots of guys in white navy uniforms, and men and women in those strange new digitized camouflage fatigues that look sort of fake, like a kid’s halloween costume. (Uh…and by the way, I think I’ve spotted about a dozen lesbians so far.) It reminds me of a Norman Rockwell painting of Grand Central Station during World War II, with soldiers from various branches bustling through, meeting relatives. I remember looking at that as a kid and thinking, wow, that’s what it looks like when there’s a war going on. Yeah, it is.
This is a very blurry picture because I didn’t want to be conspicuous and use my flash.
It’s easy to forget about what’s going on in the world when I’m traveling and doing all this self-absorbed stuff about my book. I try to retain a grip on reality by watching Democracy Now when I can. Like last night, while I was having my room service dinner at the Ritz-Carlton.
I took a picture because it seemed so incongruous, Amy Goodman at the Ritz. She’s on an eighty city book tour! Every time I watch, she’s broadcasting from another place. And I bet she’s not staying at no Ritz-Carltons.
September 28th, 2006
What a very odd time I’m having. Austin, Atlanta, now Miami. I’ve never been in Florida before. It’s, like, HOT. Who knew? My glasses steamed up when I went out last night for a walk. In my corduroys and jacket, an instantly regrettable ensemble.
But get this. Yesterday before I left Atlanta, I had lunch with Bob Mankoff, the cartoon editor for the New Yorker. He happened to be in town and was being driven by the same literary escort service as me. I don’t know exactly how it happened, I guess the escort must have mentioned she was driving around another cartoonist. And Bob (I call him Bob!) had recently heard about me from some other New Yorker cartoonist (I’m not sure which one, some guy who apparently also wrote for Six Feet Under) so he suggested that we meet. And so we did. We had lunch, see?
He invited me to start submitting stuff to the magazine, so I can join the august ranks of cartoonists, including Roz Chast, who get their work rejected on a regular basis.
I haven’t even been able to process that yet.
Right after lunch with BOB I was whisked off to ATL. Where I made this short film entitled, Why Am I Always the Only Lesbian at the Airport. In the long and badly managed line to go through security, I noticed this curious instructional display of things you’re not supposed to pack.
Did you know you weren’t supposed to bring chainsaws on the plane? What about circular saws? Or hedge clippers? Or shoulder-fired rocket launchers for that matter. Why stop with chainsaws?
And now here I am this morning in South Beach.
The ocean’s like bathwater. The beach was kind of sad. There were homeless people sleeping and changing their clothes, some daring to sit on the fancy furniture put out by the ritzy hotels. Speaking of which, I’m actually staying at the Ritz-Carlton. Very lovely, but disconcerting. All these guys opening the doors for me as I walk in or out. Now I’m gonna go get some work done.
