AUSTIN, TEXAS
OK, I know I said I would post more regularly to my online diary, but I swear this recent delay between posts is not my fault. As you may know if you've been reading this blog, I got a new computer. I love it with a fervor matched only by the affection I feel for my iPod—or TV.
The thing is, though, I can't get it to go online sometimes. Yes, I know that sounds lame. Also, it's probably my fault, not the computer's.
But that isn't the worst of the technological disasters I have endured since I left for this tour. I had no phone service AT ALL in my hotel in Colorado (thanks a lot, Radisson. Yeah, YOU, Radisson).
And then I left my cell phone on my brother's coffee table. In another state. Over a holiday weekend. So there's no way he can Fed Ex to me in time for it to be of any use.
And since I have all these radio interviews set up that mostly have to be done in airports, I had to force my excellent Arizona media escort, Pierre, to take me to the mall between signings to buy a new cell phone.
It didn't occur to me until after I had bought the second cell phone that I will be paying like $90 a month for two cell phones. And I barely ever even remembered to turn the old one on.
But whatever. The new one is pretty!
So I'm writing this from the plane that is taking me from Arizona to Austin, Texas. The pilot is named Todd. I don't find that having a pilot named Todd makes me feel very…safe. I don't know why. I keep thinking of Keanu Reeves in that movie PARENTHOOD. But if you're reading this, obviously I survived.
I had a blast in Arizona, first at Poisoned Pen in Scottsdale, then at Changing Hands in Tempe. If you couldn't make it to either of those most excellently run signings, stop by the stores, because I signed lots of stock. It was really gorgeous in Phoenix, all bright sunshine and palm trees. And everyone was SUPER nice. I didn't even mind going on TV in AZ, and normally I hate going on TV. I have to keep my eyes averted from the monitor or else I see myself and go all Cindy Brady. Like I'm all, “WHO IS THAT WEIRD LOOKING GIRL???? WHY IS HER SKIN SO SHINY???? WAIT…OH MY GOD, IT'S….ME!!!!!!”
But if I don't look, I'm OK. Sort of.
Anyway, Pierre was HILARIOUS. A lot of people thought he was my body guard, because he has a shaved head, but really, he's a media escort. He drives around very big stars! He mentioned that one of my very favorite writers–Robert B Parker, who writes the Spenser series, one of my all time faves–is a super nice guy. So that was good to hear. Because you wouldn't want to find out that our favorite author is a big jerk, or whatever.
Although I just want to say that sometimes it isn't the author's fault. Like sometimes things happen that might make an author SEEM like a jerk, but you don't know the whole story. Like I know I do things that some people might think are jerky—like I always ask for bottled water at booksigings. This isn't because I don't trust the local tap water. It's because glasses of water are too slippery, especially when they have ice in them and get condensation on the outside, and I always drop them. I HATE dropping water glasses in bookstores. In front of everyone. It's so embarrassing.
And it usually gets the books—and occasionally readers–all wet.
But you could see how something like that would get misinterpreted as “Meg Cabot is so conceited, she only drinks bottled water.”
Whatever.
If I had been able to blog earlier I'd have let you all know that Access Hollywood supposedly did a story on Princess Diaries 2, The Movie, yesterday. But I couldn't. I missed it, too. Hopefully you can maybe catch a weekend edition in reruns or something.
Since I didn't get to post the entry that comes before this one, I'm just going to do it here, even though technically it should have been posted the other day. Only I couldn't get my computer to go online. Because I'm a big freak.
But you already knew that.
Talk to you soon!!!
Love,
Meg
***2004 Boy Meets Girl Book Tour Entry #2***
Greetings from Phoenix, Arizona!
So, I got here from Denver, CO, which was my stop after Portland and Seattle. The phone service was out in my hotel in Denver so I couldn't post anything—or check my email. Now I have 271 unread emails. This blows! But it was my own fault, because I was visiting family and I decided to stay in a hotel instead of with them to avoid being a pain and also because last time I stayed with my brother, his dog ate my Spanx.*
Anyway, I chose the hotel because it was shaped like a castle. What I didn't know was that it had the WIRING of a castle, too. As in, it had none.
Choosing a hotel based on the fact that it resembles a castle is not a good way to pick a hotel, I have learned. When my publisher chooses the hotel, they always do a good job. Your publisher pays for everything when you have a book tour. Even those macadamia nuts in the mini-bar. Seriously. But you can't go hog wild. Like you can't charge sweaters from the Gap to your publisher. Not that I tried that.
But since I was taking a break from my tour in Denver, I was my own dime so I had to choose my own hotel and, well, I didn't do a very good job. Obviously.
Anyway, Seattle was cool. I got to meet a lot of fun readers, and give a book talk at Starbucks Corporate Headquarters, even though I don't actually like coffee. I think it's cool that Starbucks has authors come in to have signings on their employees' lunch hour, to promote reading and stuff. Next week Haven Kimmel is coming. If you haven't read A Girl Called Zippy, Haven's memoir, you should. Unlike most memoirs, it's actually funny.
I also really liked my Seattle media escort, Helen. The last author she drove around was this woman whose head got eaten by a bear. Not her whole head, obviously, or she wouldn't have been able to write a book about it and get driven around Seattle by Helen. But a bear definitely crunched down on PART of her head. She could hear her skull breaking in the bear's jaws and everything.
One really weird thing happened in Seattle. I ran out of deoderant, so I went down to the front desk to ask them if there was a drug store nearby. And the clerk was like, “Why do you need a drug store?” so I told her.
And the clerk reached beneath the counter and HANDED ME A FREE FULL SIZE LADY SPEED STICK!!!!!!!!
SERIOUSLY!!!
So I took it and was all, “Gee, thanks!” and felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
But later I started wondering if this was all like some kind of conspiracy to keep me from leaving the hotel. You know, because of what I told you in my last entry, about how publishers assign media escorts to authors to keep them from running away during their tour? Like, what if my publisher TOLD the front desk to keep an eye out for me and that if I walked by, trying to escape, they should stop me?
Maybe I'm being paranoid. But you never know. I was at a children's book conference once where ALL the authors and illustrators (except me—I was too jet lagged) went bar hopping until seven in the morning, and when it came time for the conference to start, I was the only one who showed up, because I was the only one who wasn't still drunk. So you have to imagine publishers probably want to try and avoid that kind of thing, if they can.
Anyway, the other funny thing that happened in Seattle was that this girl at one of the book signings asked me if my cat was dead. And when I was all, “No, of course not, w
hat makes you think so?” she pointed out that in the Author Bio for BOY MEETS GIRL, they left off the part about my one-eyed cat, Henrietta.
So I just want to assure you all that Henrietta is alive and well with my husband back in New York. I think they just wanted my bio to seem more grown up or something, since BOY MEETS GIRL is sort of for adults. Although not really.
Anyway, after Seattle, I went to Colorado, where the phones were out in my hotel. I don't want to get anybody into trouble, but it was a Radisson. Or Suckisson as I call it now.
While in Colorado, I visited my brand new neice (who inherited my tendency to get mysterious rashes, so I was able to diagnose her current one as prickly heat and advise appropriate medication) and did a signing at a store called Cultural Legacy in Denver. I signed a lot of books there, not just BOY MEETS GIRL, so if you need an autographed copy of The Princess Diaries for a birthday or whatever, Cultural Legacy has tons.
And remember, next time you're feeling down in the dumps, things could be worse:
A bear could be eating your head.
Love,
Meg
*www.spanx.com, for those of you who are curious about what Spanx are
