My mother used to recite a little poem to me that began, "To market, to market, to buy a fat pig! Home again, home again, jiggety jig!" I think it's a Mother Goose rhyme. Well, I've been to market. I wasn't buying a fat pig, I was selling one; to wit, my latest Sookie Stackhouse book, ALL TOGETHER DEAD. Along the way, I tried to remember to also tout Elaine Viets's new book, since Elaine's been in the hospital. I think I forgot at two or three signings . . . but my heart was more or less in the right place.
The pleasure of being home is immense. Of course I kept up with my husband and daughter (and my two sons who are grown up) via phone, and I checked my email from time to time. Those communications helped me feel attached to my world. But touring can be a lonely business, and even the pleasure of room service palls after a while.
Now that I'm home, I've found that the familiar obligations have piled up in my absence. My husband kept up with the laundry, but I have my own suitcase to clean out. I have some commitments that were put off that I now have to honor. I have some books to read that have piled up, and I have some people to thank who helped me along the way. And I had to catch up on my daughter's life, which is full of incidents and drama . . . she's sixteen.
Oddly enough, my publisher still wants my book on its due date despite my travels. So I have to launch back into the next Sookie, which looks to be very complicated in plot.
The good part of this is, I scarcely remember what being bored felt like. The bad news is that since I hit 55, I wouldn't mind being bored once in a while . . . I think.
Thanks for turning out to see me on the road, those of you who showed up. It was great to talk to you. It was great to sign books, and meet the people who actually helped the book have a sensational first week. And when I'm peering into my kitchen cabinets, trying to figure out what to cook for supper, I'll think of all those wonderful faces waiting to hear me speak, and I'll think of the waiter asking me if he could pour my coffee, and I'll be nostalgic . . . just for a second.
But in the words of another famous traveler, "There's no place like home."
Charlaine Harris
Sorry we weren't able to get over to Houston when you were there. I wanted to congratulate you on hitting the NYTBR list at #6!
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