The Writer and The City

Tomorrow I leave for New York for Book Expo America. I can't wait! Except that I'm making myself sick with nerves. I have to take a taxi. Maybe more than one. And maybe take the subway, which is fine so long as I can follow someone else around. I really hate feeling dependent on someone else, but dudes. I am going to let you in on a secret:

New York is big. Really big. The buildings crowd around you like a circle of bullies ready to kick you when you go down.

Also, you may not know this about me, but I am not exactly a city person.

Also I am not an extroverted person, I just play one at BEA when I am a book pimp ("Book pimpin, ARCS. I be book pimping. No BEA sleaze. We be book pimpin up in NYC...").

So, I'm going to smile and smile and smile and smile. And then at night I will lie awake, staring at the ceiling. And I will dream about the day when I will come to BEA as an author, not a book pimp.

Don't get me wrong. I love BEA. I love everything about it. Well, except maybe for the lack of downtime. I would love a little place where I could curl up and take a smile break. Maybe even frown a little bit--you know, get crazy.

Time to screw up my courage and get out there! I will do my best to have some adventures and misadventures so I can tell you all about it!