dates
In March of 2020, I spent about a week at a farmhouse up in Humboldt County, in northern California. I was there, in theory, on a writing retreat, but I didn’t end up getting much writing done. Instead, I checked Twitter and the news, texted friends, read, paced, and cried. When I had left LA the pandemic felt like a gathering threat, but not yet a sure thing. By the time I headed home, San Francisco— my halfway stop on the twelve-hour drive south— had been given shelter in place orders.
In between, at that farmhouse’s kitchen table, I cancelled all of my book events. My third novel, LOOK, was set to be released just a few weeks later, and I had plans to celebrate it: a reading in Los Angeles, as well as events in New York, Boston, and Washington, DC. I had plane tickets and train tickets and reservations on friends’ couches. I had bought new a dress to wear.
I cried bitterly over those book events. I had no idea what was coming, so it was easy to feel sorry for myself. I did not understand— how could I— that my life— everyone’s lives— would never be the same again.
And now, four years later, here I am. I Here we all are, those of us lucky enough to be here. I’m still working on the book I was trying to write about Humboldt, as well as the book I was trying to write in Humboldt. They’re taking a long while. In the mean time, I have a new book coming out, and we are throwing several parties for it.
I will be at The Ripped Bodice in LA on Thursday, September 12 at 7:00 pm, and at The Ripped Bodice in New York on Monday, September 16. I will be wearing outfits. I will be in conversation with friends. In LA, there will be Old Fashioneds, sponsored by Lodestar Whiskey. I am hoping to have a lot of fun. I am hoping you will join me.