Here is a list of ridiculous things that happened to me on book tour in no particular order, part 1:
Realized that my nipples were very obvious only minutes before stepping onto the stage and could think of nothing else so I just immediately apologized for my nipples to the large crowd. Then afterwards several people told me they didn’t see any specific nipples and then I felt like I needed to call everyone back to apologize for the lack of nipples. I bet this happened to Shakespeare all the time.
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Victor called as I was getting ready for a reading: What are you doing?
me: Ironing.
Victor: Who is this and what have you done with my wife?
me: FUCK I JUST BURNED A GIANT HOLE IN MY CLOTHES.
Victor: Oh there she is.

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Flying to Oregon. I ask the flight attendant for cranberry juice. She says, “Oh. We don’t have that here?” in a sort of baffled way so say, “Okay, do you have orange juice?” and she says, “Of course we have orange juice” like it’s weird that I would even ask. The girl sitting next to me whispers, “You thought you ordered cranberry juice, didn’t you?” I say, “Did I not?” No. Apparently I asked for cranberry sauce.
As if it was Thanksgiving.
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Signing a book to a woman named Michele who is telling me how much she loved a book I’d signed at Nowhere and had sent to her but I’m used to spelling Michele with two L’s so I accidentally sign it “To Michelle” but then try to fix it by adding “(WITH ONE L) OMG. I’M SO SORRY.” Michele opens up the other book I’d sent her before. It also says, “To Michelle (WITH ONE L) SHIT. SORRY!” I am nothing if not consistent(ly fucking up).
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Waiting at the curb for an uber to take me to an event. The uber keeps saying that it’s there but it’s not there so I end up standing awkwardly next to a teenage boy who is flipping one of those signs advertising a pizza shop for 30 minutes. He asks if I want to do something with him. I tell him I’m married. He says, “Oh, congrats. I gotta piss.” I wonder which of us has had a stroke. He clarifies that he needs someone to hold his sign while he pees in case his boss drives by. He teaches me the basics of flipping a pizza sign and I hit myself in the head twice and almost lose the sign to a gust of wind. When the uber arrives I make him wait while I continue to spin (and drop) the sign until the kid returns and tags me out. The uber driver takes me to the address but I’m looking out the wrong window and I say, “Is this it?” and the driver says “Uh…that’s you, right?” and points to a giant electric sign with my name and face on it and I sort of love the idea that he thinks I might be slightly famous but still pick up odd jobs flipping pizza signs on the sidewalk.

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I have lots more but this is getting long and I have to take the dog out. More later…
Oh, wait..one more thing! This is the 4th week in a row that HOW TO BE OKAY WHEN NOTHING IS OKAY is on the Indie Bookshop bestseller list, and I know the NYT one is fancier but I’ll take the Indie Bookshop list over it any day. That means that booksellers are hand-selling it, and book lovers are supporting their local bookshops and I don’t even have the words for how much I appreciate that.


















