Readers/listeners are grand!

I've been doing interviews for about two months, and I just realized today that I've made the icky mistake of taking for granted one of the best parts of this whole gig: Namely, feedback from listeners and readers.

A case in point are the two comments about the previous blog post (about homebrewers): smart, savvy, cogent comments from people who've read the book or heard an interview. You have no idea how much I appreciate the fact that someone, anyone!, would take the time to let me know they've been listening ore reading, and that they were interested enough to ask questions or add some feedback. (This includes, of course, all the amazing emails I've had from people around the country.) One of the great things about the internet is that it makes this kind of interaction so much easier for all of us. I only wish we could all sit down and have a beer together.

Again, my sincere thanks to all of you. (And shame on me for not saying it sooner!)

This week, you can find me . . . . .

. . . .at Powells.com, where I'm the guest blogger. I know, I know: given how much I hate blogging, it's more than a bit ironic. But I LOVE Powells and simply couldn't say no. Go here to find the blog pieces, starting today, Monday November 13, and running through Friday the 17th. If you've never visited Powells online or in person, you're missing something. The main store in downtown Portland, Oregon, occupies an entire city block and three (or four?) stories. Fabulous. Book heaven. The website is also marvelous! Lots of good "content," and their customer service is superb.

Drive-by blogging

This book "tour" is making me insane. I'm so tired that my brain feels like a dead computer must feel. I don't own a laptop, blackberry, or any other cool thingy that would allow me to deal with email or the internet while on the road, so this "blog" of mine, such as it is, which ain't much, sits neglected while I'm on the road.

I'm home now for a mere two days, trying frantically to catch up on my life as I once knew it, but which now consists of ...... well, a frantic attempt to do laundry, talk to my husband, and sleep. But it's almost over and then I can get back to my normal existence, which consists of me sitting at my desk writing or in front of a microfilm reader researching my next book.

And I gotta tell you, I REALLY want to get back to my normal existence.

Having said that (how much can I complain.....), this tour has been an amazing experience. I've met such lovely, friendly people who've been absurdly generous to me and to the beer book. There were the ambulance drivers in Durham (they actually live in Atlanta but were in D. for the World Beer Festival) who are reading the book to each other when they're waiting for the next emergency.

There's the guy in Seattle who found a site where brewery "hackers" have posted photos of the inside of abandoned breweries. The fantastic beer folks who came out for the event at Anchor Brewing in San Francisco (and who apparently don't hold it against me that Jack McAuliffe did NOT show up.........)

The funny, friendly folks in Milwaukee who came to the reading at Harry Schwartz, including Adam Nan, who brought two cases of beer from Lakefront Brewery, where he works.

And on and on. I've been met with such kindness and warmth everywhere I've gone.

Thank you to everyone. I've always had a lot of faith in humankind, and this just affirms that stance.

What Kind of Fool Am I?

Anyone remember that song? Yesterday I finally finished proofreading the manuscript. That means I finished reading aloud 412 pages of text -- backward. My voice is shot and my brain is gone. Proofreading provokes a particularly intense form of existential angst (hmmm....is that redundant??): Sitting there slogging my way from one page to the next, listening to my droning, increasingly raspy voice; becoming alarmed and unnerved by the number of typos; wondering how many of the bastards I'm MISSING as I read .....

..... I wondered: Why the HELL am I doing this? I just spent five years of my life on this book. No one will care. No one reads anymore. People who do read don't want to plunk down actual cash for books (remember: writers earn zero dollars from borrowed and used books). Down into the slough of despair I slid.

Yes, let's hear it for proofreading. Every writer's favorite activity! No wonder so many books are full of typos, misspelled words, dropped lines, and innaccuracies. Who in his or her right mind would knowingly subject him/herself to such torture??

Oh. Right. Because there's almost nothing as satisfying as writing a book; as exhilerating as creating something from nothing. So I guess proofreading is the writer's equivalent of labor pains: women give suffer fifty kinds of torture giving birth, and then that sweet little face blows the memory of that pain right out of their minds.

Yes, you guessed it: I'm chomping at the bit to start a new project so that, three or four years hence, I can sit at my kitchen table again for seven straight days reading several hundred pages of text aloud backward. Chomping at the bit to fall in love with writing all over again. What kind of FOOOLLLLL am I? Who [always falls] in love?