Starting Saturday is a week exactly the anthesis of the writer's solitary life:
Catch a plane at 6 a.m on Saturday. Three events that day, culminating with one of my royal tea parties at the Mystery Bookstore, LA.
Then drive to San Diego. Royal teaparty. Fly home.
Monday, fly to Denver.
Tuesday two early morning TV shows. Evening event.
Wednesday drive to Boulder, evening event.
Thurs fly to Salt Lake, evening event.
Friday fly to Portland, evening event.
Saturday fly home!
These things are tense because of all the airport security these days and because so many little things can go wrong. Planes no longer take off when they are supposed to. Airlines no longer care if the flight is canceled. So it's always nail biting time.
Off to pack. maybe I'll see some of you along the way?