On waking

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This morning the five scenes seemed like quite a lot. Perhaps it isn't a modest aim at all.

I woke thinking I should give thought to my "archives" — a lofty term for the boxes of papers in my basement. Might a library take them on? Now — in that between-novels stage — would be the time to at least inquire. Of course I expect rejection. One, I'm not a lit star, and two, I imagine that the days of libraries having much money for this type of thing might be over.

I must also finish preparing for my reading in Eganville tomorrow night. Yesterday I steamed my gown, and organized my props (wig, poke, bumroll). Today I will transfer the edits from my U.S. reading copy to my Canadian edition. I thought of simply changing the covers, but the Canadian is slightly larger. I might read from the U.S. edition, but without the cover. Or with the cover, and talk about the two designs. It's a wonder I get anything done at all with all this dithering.

I'll type and print out my talk onto cards: the ones I used throughout the US are now scribbled over. Too, I want to say something special. I've done this countless times by now, but in the three weeks since my last one in California, I feel I've never given a reading before. Too, a presentation before friends and neighbours is always more stressful than one before strangers.

It's also time to give thought, shape and title — that's the hardest part — to my talk for PEN in San Miguel de Allende next spring. I'm glad that they are so well-organized, that they are working on promotion so far in advance, but it's certainly far, far from my thoughts right now. I've set an end-of-month deadline for myself.

On tour (again)

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I'm in New York, the Big Apple. Tonight is my NY reading at the Barnes & Noble near the Lincoln Center (7:30, 1972 Broadway) -- the one with the huge room for events, big enough for rock groups, and too big for the likes of me. My hard-working publicist, Kelly Bowen, has warned me that of all the events on this very long one-month tour, this is the one likely to disappoint.

I walked by that store yesterday, and the photo of me on the poster made me look like a burn victim. Oh well.

At least it's no longer threatening to rain -- according to CNN, that is, but not according to the dark overcast sky from my hotel window.

I don't mind small crowds, in truth. There are always a few avid fans, and it's moving to meet them.

I've yet to work out the logistics of my gown. The skirt wrinkles, which I hadn't planned on. Yesterday I bought a Jiffy Esteam -- a clothing steamer. (It works like magic! How did I ever manage without it?) Today I need to find an extension cord, because although there may be an outlet in my improv dressing rooms, they are rarely set close to where I can hang the skirt.

By the time this 4-week tour is over, I hope to have all this worked out.