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| "One of these things just doesn't belong here..." |
And I don’t even live in Manhattan!
Friday night I went to an author event for Kelly Corrigan’s
book Tell Me More. Although I read fiction until my ears migrate to the
front of my head to compensate for the deteriorating eyesight, I’d somehow
missed the nonfiction phenomenon that is Kelly Corrigan. This is great, though:
now I can binge-read everything she wrote, because I adore her.
This is a lot like my experience with the Harry Potter
books; I was clueless until Book Six or so. And then…180 miles an hour.
Back to Kelly. Luckily, my friend Jeannine knew all about
her and invited me, knowing I would love her too.
Imagine the scene. A Barnes & Noble filled to the gills,
the organizers having to bring out more seats, freeflowing wine and
appetizers…we had to be wristbanded to be there. I marveled and thought
someday I want people to be wristbanded to hear me.
And pay $45 a ticket.
But the ticket price was fine because it included a gift bag
with her hardcover, a wonderful little book light which I’m very excited about,
a Random House stadium cup (wristbands, stadium cups: I think they’re working
on converting authors to athletes) and a copy of …Glamour magazine. Jeannine
laughed and said she didn’t think that had been preapproved by Kelly. I bet
she’d want Mother Jones in there.
(In case that sounds mean of us, one of Kelly’s ongoing
riffs is about foregoing showers).
Kelly is freaking funny. I found myself laughing very hard,
the sharp bark of surprised laughter, and the murmuring laugh of “oh yes.”
Women everywhere were exchanging glances as we/they laughed, because much of
what Kelly said was universal, bonding.
And then she spoke of loss, and even though I made a vow a
few months ago to cry less, I just couldn’t stop some of these tears. Jeannine
said she’d been listening to the audio book on her way in to work and bawling
her eyes out. I would add some hard-earned advice to readers here: don’t listen
to Schindler’s List in your car.
If you have a chance to see Kelly in person, take it. It’s
incredibly rewarding and will make you feel good about being a human.
The line to have your book signed snaked around and around,
and thanks to our arrival time, we were literally the last people in line. And
when I finally got up to Kelly, what did I say to her? “Thank you for all the
feels.”
It would be good if Barnes & Noble could provide a
trapdoor immediately in front of the author signing table for people who say
stupid things like that. I never even use the phrase “all the feels.”
How did that come out of my mouth? Worse, it sounded glib after Kelly had just
evoked truly genuine emotions out of all of us and shared some devastating
things about her own losses, which reminded us of our own losses, and connected
us in the communality of grief.
Accordingly, she responded, “What’s your name?” and signed
my book.
Jeannine and I went around the corner, had gin and tonics
and some weirdly-cold (but delicious!) truffles with raspberry dipping sauce
and only went home when her husband texted us that he was falling asleep
watching our brood of kids.
I went home, I slept. I recharged for …Literary Round Two!
Ding ding!
Saturday morning, I went into Sacramento for our monthly
brunch gathering of the Historical Novels Society friends. We have no agenda
and just meet to talk shop and encourage each other. I love this group so much.
We meet for two hours in a closed-off room at Ettore’s Swiss bakery and there’s
always good talk and laughter.
This time, we were all asking about our leader’s situation
with a dearly loved one that is facing cancer for a second time. He’s such an
incredibly kind person (and a great writer) and it was hard to see the struggle
etched in the lines of his face. It’s always so difficult to know what to say,
but I hope he knows how much we all are concerned and want to be supportive and
listen while his family undergoes this horrible time. Mark, I hope everyone who
reads these lines will pause and send a little heartfelt ping of support to
you.
There’s another Erika M. at the group, and she just released
a lovely early reader book called Big and Yellow. It has wonderful
illustrations and so far, a neat story. I read the first chapter to my kids
last night and they were enthusiastic, wanted me to keep reading when it was
time to turn off the light.
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| The Adventures of Big and Yellow by Erika Nyhagen |
She’s using a pen surname Nyhagen, but it was still
fun to see her signature on the title page as a flourished Erika. The book
involves two bears fretting about being released to a new caregiver now that
their boy has grown up (one thinks they are being given away because he failed
to learn how to fly when the boy tossed him in the air). It is sweet and funny
thus far. And the illustrations threaded throughout are absolutely gorgeous, created by a former Disney illustrator. Nice work, Erika!
Next, I carpooled with my friend Gina and her husband to
Jackson, California, for the book launch of another HNS friend, Kathy
Boyd-Fellure. Aside from Gina’s brilliant book launch on a boat on the
Sacramento River, I have never seen this many people at a “real” person’s book
launch before. I mean, she nearly approached Kelly Corrigan levels! I was
thrilled to see so many friends support her as she launched her book Language
of the Lake. She held the event in the upstairs of Hein & Co.
Bookstore, where there is a charming area that has been built out to look like
Sherlock Holmes’s Baker Street. She had a wonderful spread of cheeses and
Snook’s chocolates. And five of her eight sisters were there! (or maybe she is
the eighth). As one of four sisters, I find that thrilling. Can’t wait to start
reading, Kathy, and congratulations!
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| The Language of the Lake by Kathy Boyd-Fellure |
Can you tell I had fun staging these book photos?
. . . . .
