Okay, so maybe not the entire world, but let’s not get too picky here. I did cross an entire continent for these events, and it’s a grand thing I’m a morning person, because I usually have to get up at something like o-dark-stupidly early to catch a flight to Oregon. This trip turned out to be far more civilized, with a departure time of 10 am. What luxury! Usually, I’m up at 2 in order to eat, shower, and drive to the airport because I’m one of those obsessive people who doesn’t like to challenge the notion of being there two hours before flight time because God knows I MIGHT MISS THE FLIGHT!!!!!!!! (I’ve been known to arrive at the airport as much as three hours in advance of my flight if I’m not sure of how to get to the airport. Also, I don’t much like to drive in the dark–blame my cataracts–so that’s an added thing.)
I heard that. Shut up.
We left Hartford on time and landed in Chicago without incident. (That’s what you want on a flight, isn’t it? No incidents. The lady sitting next to me as a tad on the bitchy side–she griped at the edge of my jacket straying over onto her section of seat–and then talked about nothing but her family, although I hadn’t said a word to engage her in conversation. Turn-around in The Windy City was brief (just under an hour, during which I fielded a series of emails regarding an additional television appearance to promote the book and my appearance at Powells) and then we were on our way again. I spent this longer leg of the flight trying to read, failing abysmally at Sudoku, and working on my presentation.
Portland, Oregon at last! Oh, frabjous day, callooh callay! (As Lewis Carroll put it.) Ed, my brilliant husband and chief member of what he called my entourage, made our hotel reservation for literally minutes from the airport, so a quick drive deposited us at Hampton Inn. Ten minutes later, we joined company with one of my oldest and dearest friends, my heart-sister Wendy Carofano, who I’ve known since seventh grade. She flew all the way from Delaware to offer moral support and serve as my “roadie.” How’s that for devotion?
We met up with Michelle Henneous for dinner and then called it an early night because the next day was
We arrived at television station KATU for their morning show, Portland AM Northwest, and were directed to the Green Room where we met the other guests and generally hung out talking and sharing news until it was time for each of us to be outfitted with a remote microphone and take our turn in the hot-seat with show host Helen Raptis. (That’s me with Wendy on the left, and with Ed on the right.) If you’d like to watch my segment, just click here.
I’d never done a television interview before, but Helen and her crew made the entire process a breeze. I wasn’t the least bit nervous, probably because I’ve been immersed in this subject for five years. What was there to be afraid of?
Once we were through, we had a few hours lag time before returning for the KATU afternoon program, Portland Afternoon Live, so we tooled around Portland. We grabbed lunch at a small but amazing salad place (kale! Yes!) and made a brief visit to Powell’s City of Books where I saw ELEPHANT SPEAK on a store bookshelf for the first time, quite a thrill I must say. Wendy immediately went into sales mode with a gentleman who was looking at it, and the next thing I knew, he was asking me to sign his copy.
Back we went to KATU’s Green Room for my afternoon piece. (Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a link to that on their website, but the interview was much the same as the morning one.)
By the time we left the studio I was … how shall I put this? … I believe toast is the correct word. Some of it was due to travel the day before, but the greater part of my fatigue was because I am, at heart, an introvert. I have to work very hard to engage with people, particularly strangers, and find it difficult to be “on” for protracted lengths of time. We had several hours to spare before the evening book launch (!!!) at Powell’s, so I opted to return to the hotel, climb under the covers, and close my eyes. I didn’t sleep, but did rest some, and spent part of that time zoning out with the new Godzilla movie.
Ed chose an awesome Italian restaurant called Allora, at 504 NW 9th Avenue. Wendy went exotic with rabbit ragu, and Ed had cioppino (a seafood stew), but I opted for down-home, stick to your ribs goodness with their house-made polpette (essentially spaghetti and meatballs). Wine and panna cotta rounded out the meal, and by the time we arrived at Powell’s, I was raring to go.
Let me tell you a bit about Powell’s City of Books, the ultimate book mecca for anyone who loves the written word. They’re the largest independent bookstore in the world and have been serving the city of Portland since 1971. They employ over 530 people in five area stores (and Powells.com) and their book inventory (take a deep breath) exceeds two million volumes. (The main store takes up an entire city block.)
To quote in part from their website, “Powell’s roots began in Chicago, where Michael Powell opened his first bookstore in 1970 … Michael’s dad, Walter Powell, a retired painting contractor, worked one summer in the Chicago store. He so enjoyed his experience that upon returning to Portland he opened his own used bookstore. Walter swamped his original location by buying every marketable used book that came through the door, finally pushing the whole operation into a former car dealership on Northwest Burnside … In 1979, Michael joined Walter in Portland, creating a bookstore with a unique recipe that, though viewed as unorthodox, worked: used and new, hardcover and paperback, all on the same shelf; open 365 days a year; and staffed by knowledgeable and dedicated booklovers. Four decades later, Powell’s Books is a cornerstone of the community and continues to operate as a third-generation family-owned business with Emily Powell at the helm. Says Emily: “My grandfather taught me that our job is to connect the writer’s voice with the reader’s ear and not let our egos get in between. My father taught me not only the love of the book itself but also how to love the business of bookselling.”
Small wonder that walking through the door left me feeling like I’d just come home. (I’m there in the small print, on the left, fourth from the top.)
And what a time it was! The Powell’s staff was energetic, engaging, and serious about their work. They had me set up in no time, and I watched is something like disbelief as the crowd gathered … and gathered … and gathered … until more chairs had to be brought in. And with that, I began. (More to follow tomorrow)