First off, I feel the need to clear up some info about my trip to Blockbuster. Some people were shocked I went into a real video store, and many suggested Netflix or whatnot for True Blood. I'm actually a subscriber to Blockbuster's online service, and I get 99% of my movies through the mail. But, TB is pretty backed up with them, and after my luck last week with finding so much TB in at the store, I wanted to do the mail-order-trade-in they let you do. So, yeah, I'm a big believer in the online services. And iTunes in a pinch.

Second, the Dmitri working at Blockbuster is not a clone of the Dimitri in my books. So, no, I'm not giving up his location if you want to see him. :) Sorry to those of you who have been emailing about it and asking! And many thanks to those of you who weighed in about Russian martial arts and sent pics of Comrade Winnie the Pooh. Good times.

Succubus Blues sold publishing rights in Poland! Go Eastern Europe!

Bitten By Books, who delights in testing my nerves and competitive nature, has nominated Dimitri for their "I'm Too Sexy Poll". I will say no more.

The ex-KGB neighbors are continuing to load stuff into their cars...

And lastly, I now know the cities I'll be visiting for my Blood Promise tour in late August/Early September. Now, before I give you these, I want to state again for those whose cities I won't be in that 1. It's impossible for me to visit every place, and 2. These are set up by my awesome publisher, who has really good connections to some fun bookstores in these cities. It's out of my control, and I'm so sorry if I can't visit you.

***I'll be providing store names and addresses later, but at a glance, here are the dates and cities.*** I've listed the larger metro area first and then the actual signing spot after it, if it's in a suburb or smaller city. Alpharetta folks--take note. Your signing changed from 9/2 to 9/3.

August 25---Seattle, WA
August 26---Los Angeles, CA (Upland)
August 27---San Francisco, CA
August 28---Denver/Boulder, CO
August 29---Houston and Austin, TX
August 31---Detroit, MI (Birmingham)
September 1---Chicago, IL (Naperville)
September 2---Lexington, KY
September 3---Alpharetta, GA
September 4-7---Atlanta, GA (DragonCon)
September 8---Baltimore, MD (Ellicott City)
September 9---Washington, DC (Fairfax, VA)
September 10---Boston, MA (Burlington)
September 12-19---Australia (Melbourne, Brisbane, Sydney) Schedule TBA

Thank you so, so much to my wonderful team at Razorbill for sending me to these places. I am so grateful and honored for their support with my career and appreciate all these wonderful events they've arranged! I hope if any of you live near these places, you'll come visit. And if I don't see you, hang in there for another time, and remember you can always get me to sign books for you via University Bookstore--who's taking pre-orders for Blood Promise now.

Today finds me in beautiful, freezing, arctic Florida. Okay, actually, it's pretty nice outside. I'm referring to my hotel room. Man, I'd forgotten what it's like to be in places that rely heavily on air conditioning! COLD. But how did I get here? Let's back up.

This week is the Romantic Times Book Lovers Convention, a yearly con of epic proportions that changes location. I headed out here yesterday with Mark Henry and his wife Caroline. We flew out of Seattle on Continental, an airline I don't use very much, largely because they rarely fly where I need to go from Seattle. I hadn't realized they were one of the $15 per checked piece of luggage airlines either until the three of us were checking in. The Henrys did some clever swapping so that they only had to check one bag instead of two, but my 44-pounder (in your face 50 pound limit!) had to be checked.

Unlike normal, the Continental luggage lady only asked to see Caroline's ID and boarding pass. I guess she figured Mark and I looked trustworthy. Said lady then told us very ominously, "You'll see your bags again in Orlando." It wasn't quite ransom-note style, but the wording was amusing. Of course, we saw our bags right then...because she didn't do anything with them. Once tagged, she left them on the counter's scale and just...walked off. She didn't take the bags, didn't tell us to go to security, or anything. We finally left, taking it on faith we would indeed see the bags again.

Meanwhile, over at security, Seatac has instituted "Expert Traveler" lines, which I guess are for those of us savvy travelers who can assess in 10 seconds if we're going to need 3 trays or 4 that day. Why someone brought children in line ahead of us is therefore a mystery. Those kids didn't seem like experts. But then, I apparently didn't either, because the guy watching the trays go through said to me, "You look nervous." Whoa. Not what you want to hear TSA say to you. I told him I was tired and had only gotten 3 hours of sleep in getting ready for the trip. He told me I should have been partying instead. The metal detector lady proved friendly too--or was at least relieved to see a real expert traveler--and told me, "You're doing a great job!" Empowered by that affirmation, I finished the rest of the security procedures, bonded with another agent, and now feel a lot closer to Seatac's security.

Weird luggage procedures or not, I'll say this: Continental feeds you. We got sandwiches, muffins, and cereal throughout this journey (those of us not sleeping through meals, at least). One quick Xanaxed flight to Houston, then a turbulent one over the Gulf, and yay! We arrived in Orlando--as did our luggage. The con is being held on a resort with all the buildings spread around in a way not good for those of us with spatial challenges. Maps are everywhere--with good reason. Fortunately, guests can be ferried around by young, reasonably-attractive men driving golf carts. Clearly, these poor guys have no idea what's in store this weekend with a con that's 95% women.

And as you'd imagine, there's a star-studded cast of characters here. I hung out with a bunch last night, and the con's list of attendees is here. More reports to come.

Contrary to our guidebook's list of ten required things to do if you have "one day free in Dublin," lolcatz and I were dubious about such an aggressive schedule. So, we streamlined it down to what we considered the most important three.

First up: the Book of Kells.





Let me state right off that I didn't take that picture. It's another one snagged from the webs. The Book of Kells is a meticulously decorated manuscript of the four gospels that was written and illustrated by monks in the eighth century. It's housed at the prestigious Trinity College, but no photography is allowed. Most of the exhibit is about the history of the book (which is actually in four volumes). They only keep two volumes of the book on display at any one time for preservation reasons. Of those, they rotate which pages are on display so that none are exposed to light for too long. The book is really beautiful and the detail is so intricate. It's mind-boggling to think of all the artistic work that went into it--and to realize that it happened 1200 years ago, in an era that was so dark and fraught with chaos.

After the Book of Kells, we had a hard choice to make. I'd considered going to the National Archaeology Museum, which is supposed to have a really prestigious collection of Viking, Celtic, and Medieval exhibits. There are some exquisite, priceless artifacts there. I'm really into that part of history, and the museum is a great way to truly get an extensive feel for it all.

So is this place:





Welcome to Dublinia, Dublin's ultimate Viking experience. Yes, we opted out of the museum and instead went here. This interactive exhibit focuses on the Viking and Medieval eras of Dublin and has lots of displays recreating life in those days:





Dublinia also appears to have a penchant for disembodied heads. This isn't a real guy, but rather, a video behind that facade. He told us what it would take to be a Viking warrior, though I think a few of the uglier details were glossed over.





The family-oriented nature of Dublinia aside, it was actually pretty informative. We learned a lot about that time period in Dublin, and I actually discovered some facts I hadn't known. Outside Dublinia was the famous Christchurch Cathedral, one of the oldest buildings in the city, but we chose not to go into it. After seeing other churches on this trip, we just didn't feel up to another admission fee. I guess you can put a price on culture.





It's weird. You don't realize this when you go on vacation, but when you're seeing attractions, you get flooded with a lot of information. You can't just walk up to an exhibit and walk out (usually). Almost anything you pay admission to is surrounded in signs and posts filled with dates and facts. It's all good stuff, but man, does it get wearying. After Dublinia, I didn't think my brain could hold any more info. But we still had one more place to go and learn:





THE GUINNESS STOREHOUSE.

Trufax time, guys. There's a huge stereotype about Guinness and the Irish, but seriously? It's kind of true. Every pub across the country has a Guinness sign in the window, and in pubs like the one in Doolin? Well, they all really were drinking Guinness. So, visiting the storehouse seemed requisite to get the full Irish experience, even though I don't drink beer. When we first walked in, I heard a waterfall and got so excited. For half a second, I suddenly envisioned myself in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory and expected a waterfull of Guinness pouring into a Guinness river. I think that would have made for the greatest photo on this trip.





Nope. It was just regular water. The Guinness Storehouse rivals the Jameson Distillery when it comes to blatant advertising and propaganda about their product, but I think Jameson marginally wins. Nonetheless, Jameson's founder can't touch Guinness'--who apparently went after city officials with an axe when they threatened to cut his water supply.





I'll say this for Guinness, though. I think they understand that beer fans aren't looking for quite the same level of detail that history buffs are. So, while the exhibits were extensive, the facts on beer making stayed pretty high level and brief. They also had kind of this faux scientific theme going on to emphasis the quality and technology that goes into Guinness, as demonstrated by these white-robed technicians working in the "Tasting Lab":





Naturally, the Tasting Lab is always looking for subjects.





At the conclusion of your tour, you get to go up to this restaurant on top of the storehouse and have a free glass of Guinness. The bar has a 360 degree view of the city, which makes for some breathtaking pictures:





On our way back to the hotel, we walked through an alley near the storehouse and saw something a little odd:





You aren't imagining it. There's something very odd up there in that grim-looking window. Let's take a closer look:





Huh. It's some kind of Chucky-esque head...with a pint of Guinness next to it. I'm not really sure who the building belongs to or what the message is. A protest of the locals to Guinness' conquest of the area? Or was it staged by Guinness officials to show that their beer is for everyone--rich and poor alike? The world may never know. One thing I'm pretty sure of is that it must scare the hell out of tourists coming out of the storehouse who have had too much to drink.

Tomorrow we fly back to the U.S. 12 hours! My pre-flight anxiety hasn't kicked in yet, but I'm sure it will tomorrow. I've had an amazing time here in Ireland, but it's always nice to be back home in familiar settings. I'm also missing my cats something fierce. Once home, I'll be getting right back to work, as I'm given to understand two manuscripts might literally be waiting on my doorstep for edits. Lots of work! But, I guess that's why we take vacations.

Next post will be stateside!

Staying in one city is kind of nice. Despite still having things to do today, we were able to sleep in (a little) and not worry about making our next town. We also have an organic grocery store next to our hotel (think PCC or Metropolitian Market, Seattlites), so we were able to catch a very cheap breakfast with their homemade pastries. Then, it was back for some cartime, heading north of Dublin to the prehistoric site of Newgrange.





If you look closely in that picture, you'll see the shape of a large dome on the horizon. This is a huge mound with a stone burial/ritual chamber built into it. It was constructed about 5000 years ago. Let's get a closer look.





The thing is massive--use the people for scale. Some of the stones used in it weigh in the tons and apparently would have taken 80 men four days to transport them via a log-rolling system. It's crazy.

Here's the entrance, but it's deceptive. That large carved stone isn't blocking the door. It's sitting a ways in front of the tomb's doorway, and you have to walk around it.





The tomb is designed so that the little square above the door lets in the sun's light on the winter solstice at sunrise and lights up the whole chamber. They wouldn't allow us to take pictures inside, but below is one I found on a tourism website to show you what things looked like. The chamber is small relative to the hill, and despite finding bones, no one's really sure what the place was used for.





Like everything else, the site was surrounded by beautiful Irish countryside. People had houses and farms around it, and you can see a smaller hill tomb off there in the distance.





After Newgrange, we drove over to another ancient site, the Hill of Tara. The Hill of Tara is a series of hills, some with tombs, that were first in use thousands of years ago and play a huge role in Irish mythology. A lot of my favorite Celtic stories mention Tara.





Honestly, from the ground, it's hard to get a sense for Tara. It just seems like you're walking over a bunch of hills. From the air, you start to get a sense for its coolness. This aerial view is from another tourist site--obviously, I didn't take it:





Some of the hills, however, had interesting features. This one is called the Mound of the Hostages and has a story about it that's kind of gruesome. Inside is a small chamber where human remains were found, and there are carvings on the walls similar to Newgrange's:





One of the hills played a big role in Irish history as a coronation site for kings. On top of this hill, on the right, is a long stone called the Stone of Destiny. When the rightful king of Tara touches it, the stone will roar. lolcatz and I both touched it. Nothing happened.





And like a lot of pagan sites, Christianity eventually spread in. Tara is famed for epic confrontations between St. Patrick and the druids. There's a church built nearby, along with a statue of him:





So, yeah. There was a lot of walking but also a lot of cool stuff today. In closing, I'd like to illusrate some of the many individuals who travel Ireland. Here, outside of Newgrange, is a quintessential country cow crossing. The bus transporting us to the site had to stop and wait.





And, of course, there are always pedestrians in the city and on country roads. So, it's important that everyone knows where people are allowed to walk. Fortunately, signs make it clear:





And, if you happen to be on a motorcycle, the Irish want to make sure it's painstakingly clear, in realistic detail and color, that they're referring to you and that you know exactly where to go:





Man. I guess we know who the department of transportation really cares about around here. I'm pretty sure I've never seen such a detailed traffic sign in my life. The attention there is amazing, and you have to wonder what it would be like to live in a world where all signs are that illustrative. The only thing that would have been more awesome is if he had a little attached side car, but I guess even Ireland isn't that cool.

Today we abandoned the wilds of western Ireland and headed back east to the land of (kind of) more reliable roads. As I mentioned yesterday, today was "spring forward" day in Ireland since they didn't switch to DST a month early like the US did this year. So, we lost an hour of sleep but nonetheless managed the four-hour cross-country trek--which early resembled western Michigan, except with barns in better condition.

Honestly, the hardest part of the journey was actually just getting to our hotel once we were in Dublin. People rarely use numerical addresses here like in the U.S., so it makes locating things hard--even with a GPS. The city driving and general chaos that ensues with getting lost rattled me quite a bit, though lolcatz handled it like a pro. Once situated, we decided there was really only one way to relax: dinner and a tour at Jameson's Whiskey Distillery.





Honestly, I'm not much of a whiskey drinker, but Jameson's is a historic site here in Dublin, and I'd heard good things about the tour. Above is our tour guide, who showed us around and explained the process of whiskey making. It was quite possibly the finest Irish whiskey propaganda I've ever encountered. He explained the differences between Irish, American, and Scotch whiskeys. At the end of the tour, he took eight volunteers to be "official whiskey tasters" in order to compare and contrast the three kinds:





And guess who one of the whiskey tasters was?





I would have volunteered myself, but I'd had wine with dinner and feared what three shots of whiskey on top of that would have done. So, lolcatz manfully stepped up and was actually one of three other Seattle tourists in the tasting group. When they finished, they all got diplomas with their names on them that declared them to be Qualified Irish Whiskey Tasters. I was so proud!





The tour guide also guilted all the volunteers into voting that Jameson's was better than the American (Jack Daniels) and Scotch (Johnnie Walker) types. But, when lolcatz let me sneak some of his samples, I thought the Jack was best. The Johnnie Walker was horrid. Sorry to any JW fans out there.





After that relaxing time, it seemed like we needed to get the old blood going--literally.





Yes, that's right. Welcome to the Bram Stoker Dracula Experience. What kind of vampire author would I be if I didn't go to this? The Experience is a museum that's in a pool hall that's in an arcade that's in a bar/nightclub that's in a health club on the outskirts of Dublin. I am not making that up.





The Experience had all sorts of info about Bram Stoker's life, a lot of which I found kind of depressing as a fellow writer. Like so many great authors and artists in history, Bram went relatively unrecognized in his own lifetime, unknowing of what his book would eventually spawn in vampire culture.

The rest of the Experience had stuff like this:





Most were exhibits of highly embellished scenes from the book, a la Halloween haunted house style, complete with mechanical monsters that occasionally lept out at you. There was also helpful how-to info posted about, like this:





Let's zoom in and take a closer look...





Huh. Looks like I hit a few of Stoker's rules right on for my books.

Aside from his lack of success in life, I was also a little disturbed by just how much people read into Stoker's life now because of what he wrote in Dracula. We watched this video about him, and it was just crazy listening to modern experts analyze him and make assumptions about his repressed anger and sexuality, based on the book. Man, can't a guy get a break? Does a book have to have subconscious meaning from the author? Makes me nervous to know what people are reading into my books.

Anyway, after that 7 euro (cash only, guys) experience, our night in the big city wound down with a walk over to the famous Temple Bar district for a late dinner. Tomorrow will take us outside the city a bit for a few more monuments, which should give me plenty of time in the car to ponder what deep meanings and psychological nuances college English classes will eventually be drawing from my books.

First up, I had no idea how many of you had visited the Cliffs of Moher--let alone how many had defied the warning signs! So, I meant no offense to you daredevils, and I'm glad you all lived to tell the tale. Just be more careful next time, okay, guys?

On to today...

One of our fellow guests at the inn here in Doolin is a doctor who does photography as a hobby. He's up here for the weekend as part of a photography group's getaway. Lots of photographers from different parts of the country have converged this weekend, but our friend the doctor refused to stay at the same inn with the rest of them. "They're wild. I can't keep up with that group," he told us. "You'll see them in the bar tonight."

Sure enough. We went down to the pub around the corner for dinner and drinks last night and identified the photographers easily. They were easy to spot because their table was totally covered in Guinness glasses. Also, they all had cameras. The drunker they got, they more they kept taking photos of...each other. They seemed to find it hilarious to watch the reactions of friends when camera flashes went off in their faces. They even had the audacity to snag the front table--right in front of the entertainment! Nonetheless, their antics couldn't take away from the awesomeness of the band:





That girl in particular was especially talented. She played a number of instruments and sang too. It was the kind of music that made you feel emotional without knowing why. Or maybe that's what all music does. Anyway, I took some video, but my current internet connection wouldn't be able to handle the upload. So, I'll try to put it up another time.

Here's an interesting thing about the pub. Apparently, the value of the American dollar is so low now, it's cheaper to use it than wallpaper on your walls:





After a night of excellent food and excellent music, we awoke this morning to unfortunate news. Our plan had been to take a ferry to the Aran Islands, just off the coast here. The islands are remote and allegedly very beautiful, with small villages and old ruins. Unfortunately, no ferries were running--due to the fact that there were severe gale warnings out for the ocean. You can't really argue against that, so we found ourselves landlocked with no plans for the day. Our innkeeper, who is intent on making sure everyone who stays here has fun, gave us a backup itinerary and sent us off on a driving tour. It sent across the rocky wilds of the land known as Burren, which included sites like Kilfenora here, home of a ruined 1000 year old church known for its crosses:





The crosses were beautiful, just like all the stonework we've seen in Ireland so far. I was settling in for another day of relics of days gone by, when the next stop on our innkeeper's itinerary suddenly and astonishingly put us face to face with this guy:





Wait...what? A snowy owl in Ireland?

Welcome to the Burren Birds of Prey Center. I mean, Centre. This unexpected site out in the midst of rough limestone-country houses all sorts of birds--many, ironically, which can be found in the American Pacific Northwest. (I know, Penny. You're thinking, "Why don't you come to Friday Harbor and just give me some euros for admission?").

Ireland's bird of prey population is small due to centuries of hunting, and they're trying to reintroduce them and breed them. This is a good cause, plus I'm immensely entertained by birds of all kinds--especially owls, which the centre had in plenty:





I likes hawks too:





The centre also had James, the friendly ranger who may have been British or Irish (we couldn't quite tell) who brought birds out and did demonstrations with them for us:





The birds were pretty cool. They fly around this arena and land on its edges, coming to James when he calls and offers food. Most are even docile enough for him to bring near the audience--sometimes a little too close for my comfort. This guy is seriously only about two feet from us, though James assured us no one's eyes would get pecked out:





Oh, and it turns out that James isn't the only one the birds like:





James let people in the audience come up and wear the birders glove, then he'd put food out and call the birds. Usually the birds would come and sit on people's arms for only a few seconds while they ate, then hop off. For whatever reason, that hawk above really liked lolcatz. She didn't want to leave and hung out on him long after the food was gone, oblivious to the line of those waiting to take their turn. It was almost comical at one point, but she apparently just has good taste.

Now, I know some of you are wishing I'd stop writing about Ireland and give you Vampire Academy updates. As I've said before, I have no updates to give. But, this might make some of you happy. For sale in the gift shop was a duster that's almost exactly like the one Dimitri wears (except it's not leather):





Hope that'll hold you over!

After the birds, we went to Ailwee Cave. I honestly had no idea what this was, only that it was adjacent to the bird centre and on the itinerary. I just thought, "Sure, why not tour a cave?" The cave turned out to be be this tunnel that a river carved out from limestone hundreds of feet under the ground, and when I stepped inside and had to duck, my brain suddenly realized it didn't think being in a very small, very dark, and very underground place was very cool:





Nonetheless, I toughed out my claustrophobia, even when the tour guide told us that a colony of bats lived there but that he "hadn't seen any today." Yikes. lolcatz liked this attraction immensely, and he's the one who took the pics, even though photos can't really convey how small and how large the cave was at varying places:





By this point, it was pretty late in the day, and we were turning back toward Doolin. We had one more stop to make, the Poulnabrone Dolmen:





This is a tomb that was constructed around 3000 BC. You guys. That's, like, 5000 years ago--or, as the kids are calling it nowadays, INSANELY OLD. I can't even really process that much time.





It's actually a mass grave, and the chamber underneath the stones held the bones of over 30 people, which is pretty gruesome. Still, it's kind of mind-boggling to see something that's been standing so long in tribute to people we can barely comprehend

After a day of birds and rocks, we returned to our inn in Doolin and got ready to head back to the pub from last night. Doolin has three famous pubs, but it's hard to be swayed to another when one is a 2-minute walk away. Tonight, they had a different group of musicians playing, and guess what? We sat at the table the photographers had last night!





That's right. We snagged the front row spot right by the musicians. It was pretty amazing. We saw the photographers come stumbling in after the band started, but they had to settle for whatever crap seating they could find. We win again.

Tomorrow, we leave the west coast for the east, heading straight across the whole country and back to Dublin for the rest of our trip. Expect "big city" reports--and what it's like to go through spring Daylight Savings Time again--to come soon.

Today was a castle-free day as lolcatz and I headed over to the western coast of Ireland. Our goal was the Cliffs of Moher, perhaps better recognized by some of you as the Cliffs of Insanity from The Princess Bride and a number of other movies. As you can see, they're pretty impressive:





The weather was as windy as it was at the Rock of Cashel the other day, and it was rather astonishing to watch conditions alternate between sun and light showers literally every ten minutes. I was ready for (almost) anything, bundled in layers and a high-tech North Face jacket that can inexplicably resist all weather conditions, despite its thin fabric:





The Visitors Center lets you walk in two different directions, so there are two really good angles here on the cliffs. The center also goes on extensively about how all the rocks formed over the ages and have gained their weathered shape. Mostly all you need to know is that they're really high and really cool. It's easy to see why Celtic myth had stories of blessed lands out beyond them on the western horizon. (Little did they know why actually lay across the ocean).





The cliffs are full of seabirds, including huge colonies of puffins. Puffins are one of my favorite birds ever, but if they were there, we couldn't see them. We were so high up that it was impossible to spot black birds against that coast, but the Visitors Center sold plenty of puffin merchandise. And mead too.





Now, we were actually closer to the edge than you might realize from these pictures. With that kind of height, much care was taken to protect people. Aside from the chance of stumbling and falling, people have actually been blow off by that insane wind. Guard rails/walls are in place, and signs are everywhere that seem pretty explanatory in any language:





However, it appears that no matter how many signs you put up, some people will never listen.





And thus, the gene pool keeps getting thinned out.


After the cliffs, we drove a bit further up the coast to the village of Doolin. Doolin has only three pubs, all renowned nationwide for their music, and we're hoping to see some good stuff tonight. Our bed & breakfast is exquisite, and we were greeted with cookies and Bailey's coffee by our innkeeper.

Doolin's a quaint little seaside village, with thick accents and people actually speaking Irish here and there, but we haven't been able to get any really good pics of it. While driving down the highway earlier, though, we did manage to get a shot of an actual Irish rainbow:





It's pretty hard to see in those clouds, so you'll have to trust me that it's there. To give you a better idea of what it might have looked like in better lighting, I've created this artist's rendition:





I hope that helps. For now, we're chillaxing in our room and listening to some pretty horrific wind beat against the windows. Each time new guests arrive downstairs, we can hear the innkeeper offering them Bailey's too, but we seem to have been cut off. In the meantime, European CNN is on, which does a remarkable job via interviews and polls of showing how uninformed Americans are about the world and their own country. I can't tell just how skewed it is, but considering I just found out about the North Dakota flooding, I guess I can't judge too loudly.

Well, last night in Kilkenny proved pretty quiet, despite eating dinner at a pub founded by the town's legendary Medieval witch. My boyfriend and I left before the entertainment started (a rock band that the bartender seemed apologetic about) and just went back to our inn. In the morning, our innkeeper was highly concerned about us getting enough to eat, seeing as we only wanted eggs, toast, granola, fruit, coffee, and juice. I'm pretty sure breakfast isn't complete around here without meat. I would have had yogurt too--until I discovered it was actually cheese that looked like yogurt, which is wrong in so many ways that it deserves its own post.

Anyway, before leaving Kilkenny, we had to go visit St. Canice's Cathedral, which looks just like a postcard here but was my actual view:





Much like Black Abbey, St. Canice's is one of those buildings that just makes your jaw drop. I think it was built around 1100, but like so many prestigious Irish buildings, it's been remodeled, burninated, rebuilt, and restored many times.





Along with its overwhelming beauty, St. Canice's also had another overwhelming theme: death.





Tombs like these (though most don't have bodies anymore) were all over the cathedral, along with memorial windows and plaques (seen in the background). The dates and people spanned hundreds of years, and it was a bit eerie to be surrounded in the lives and deaths of so many people, along with those who had created their memorials.

After that, we hit the road to see a site called the Rock of Cashel. Our directions to it were vague. We only knew that once we got to the village of Cashel, we could probably find a sign or ask for directions. Then, while driving in, we noticed this along the side of the road:





Yup. Looks like we found it. The Rock of Cashel is this ginormous limestone mound that myth says was a piece of rock that the devil bit and then spit out. It rises up much higher than the picture conveys. As a fan of Irish myth and epics like The Tain, I was happy to hear it was the home of the Munster kings. Later, it was the home of warrior kings, and then, it was the home of monks and bishops:





Like St. Canice's, the Rock was rebuilt and attacked over multiple centuries. Today it holds the remains of a cathedral, chapel, and other ecclesiastical buildings. Pieces of it are as old as the sixth century, but seriously, when you were born in a country that's barely over 200 years old, sixth century and sixteenth century all start to blur together.





What isn't obvious from the beautiful blue skies here is that it was cold and WINDY. Like, the kind of windy that literally almost knocked me over. It was pretty miserable, and while some of it was just part of today's bad weather, the Rock's height also lends itself to wind. At the end of the info video we watched at the visitors center, the narrator declared that after 1500 years, the churchmen realized the Rock "really wasn't a pleasant place to live" and left, putting me in mind of The Holy Grail line about Camelot being a silly place.






Silly or not, there were some insane views from up there, some of which displayed picture-perfect Irish village landscapes:





And some of which displayed unknown majestic ruins we were never told about. Honestly, it's kind of crazy just how many stone ruins we pass along the side of the road on any given day here. They'll be in someone's backyard. And people just take them in stride, like they're no big deal.





After Cashel, we drove north to Shannon to another castle because seriously, you just can't visit enough of them.





This is Bunratty Castle, a castle that is not in ruins. It's been restored and does regular tours (like the one with a group of French school children that got off a bus about a minute before we got out of our car). Unlike Malahide and Kilkenny castles, this one was decorated in true Medieval style, fulfilling all my joyous stereotypes about such places, including chain mail and weapons hanging in people's bedrooms:





Every night, Bunratty Castle also plays host to Medieval banquets where you can come eat with your hands, drink mead, hear minstrels, and be waited upon by serving wenches. It looks something like this:





Looks fun, huh? Well, we'll never know. You can go ahead and file that under NOT YOURS. Instead, the hall probably looked more like this tonight:





You, me, and these people are all thinking the feasting hall looks a little empty. That's because there was no feast tonight. And here's where the truth comes out, guys. I've been to these cheesy Medieval-themed banquets before, at places like the Excalibur in Las Vegas and Medieval Times in Toronto. They're silly, overpriced, and historically inaccurate.

And I love them.

And I won't lie about this either: part of this leg of the trip was based around us attending the Medieval banquet at Bunratty Castle tonight. So, I was quite heartbroken when the lady at the castle told us there was NO DINNER TONIGHT. All the guidebooks said 7 days a week, but being the off-season, things can change. So I said, "Oh, you're only doing them on the weekends right now?" And she said no, that there'd been one last night. And there'd be one tomorrow...just not tonight. Her reasons were all really vague, but I guess it came down to not having enough demand for tonight, meaning my dreams of a Medieval feast in a place that actually has a, well, Medieval history were dashed.

I must have looked really sad because lolcatz even suggested that we could maybe come back tomorrow, even though we were moving on to a new town. But was an extra 2-hour round trip and a 50 euro admission (which is like a million US dollars) per person worth it? No. This banquet was something I just had to move on from. I needed to suck it up and find something nearly as cool to entertain me. This is what I found:





A BABY GOAT.

Outside Bunratty Castle is the Bunratty Folk Park, a recreated Irish village ~1800s. Compared to the thatched huts at the National Heritage Park, these farm houses looked like mansions. And like any good farm community, there were lots of farm animals and stores selling crafts. The baby goat was my favorite (animal, not craft), but I liked the wandering herd of chickens a lot too.

Now, in high season, the park is full of people who are also dressed in authentic costumes and play the roles of Irish villagers, kind of like that episode of South Park with the pioneer town. We found no such people today, save these women who were offering scones to visitors, as seen on the plates below:





We probably could have eaten that whole plate, but they were rationing them out pretty frugally. So, short of launching a raid on the village, we had to take what we could get. Fortunately, we got plenty to eat later at Durty Nelly's, a pub just outside the park. While eating, we got to watch a group of elderly Irish gentlemen stand around the bar, drink Guinness, and talk in thick accents about bar brawls they'd watched on YouTube. When one of their cell phones rang, the ring tone was an Irish folk jig. It was fantastic, leaving the lost banquet long forgotten.

All in all, it was a pretty good day, albeit an exhausting one after all the walking around and fighting the elements. We've fortunately found ourselves in another exceptional lodging, one with sherry waiting in the room and sticky toffee pudding served in the restaurant. For the record, this our third night of sampling sticky toffee pudding. We're finding it everywhere and starting to do comparisons. It, like Nothing to Declare, is quickly moving high on my list of new favorite things, though I'm certain I'm going to learn soon that STP probably has some horrific ingredient that makes it taste so good.

Our plans for the day were delayed when I woke up feeling like crap. I slept in an extra two hours and then went to the hotel's bar to get a glass of milk to take with my ibuprofen. For a thrifty 80 (euro) cents, they gave me milk with a cream content so high, I suspect they had a cow out back. Nonetheless, it did the trick, but the delay meant we had to cut visiting Waterford--home of Waterford crystal--and head straight to Kilkenny, our other planned stop today.

Kilkenny is a beautiful little city, filled with shops and restaurants in its old Medieval town layout. The city also seems to have a breath-taking cathedral (like St. Mary's, seen below) on every corner, which means--in the words of our innkeeper--"there's no excuse not to go to mass."





We've had a good time in Kilkenny so far and finally had a meal that really made us stand up and take notice. (Well, the chicken fajitas on a baguette that I had the other day made me take notice). That's not to say Irish food has been bad, but it's been average so far. Today? Amazing food. It was at a fun, organic restaurant that catered to my snooty American need for espresso-based drinks.

Our Bed & Breakfast is awesome too--nicer than the hotels we've stayed in in the other cities thus far. Our room, as you can see, has enough beds to accommodate all of our friends or 1/100 of lolcatz's family.





One of the places we visited today is Black Abbey, a Dominican establishment that's been around for centuries. Its church is lit only by candles and was incredibly cool and mystical-feeling, particularly since it was totally empty (aside from us). We got some pictures of amazing stained glass windows:







And because the Middle Ages were all about religion and protecting yourself from raiders, Kilkenny naturally has a castle. This one's a bit bigger than the one in Malahide:





Like the other, we couldn't take pictures inside. The castle's sections are divided and furnished to represent various phases of its history. Naturally, I love the really old stuff from the 1200s. They even still had arrow slits that can undoubtedly be used today when tourists get too rowdy out on the castle grounds:







And speaking of the Norman Era, here's a bonus picture from yesterday at the Irish National Heritage Park. I didn't post it since I already had so many up, but I think this is an accurate representation of how I would defend a Norman fort/proto-castle back in the day:





We missed the hours to see another cathedral, so we'll catch that before heading out of town tomorrow. For now, Kilkenny is supposed to have some fun nightlife, so if we can drag ourselves away from our four beds, unlimited internet, and crap TV (Judge Judy appears to have quite the following and Spandau Ballet's reunion is BIG news here), we might just take to the streets and check things out. Who knows? Maybe the reason there are so many churches here is because people have to do penance the next morning for wild nights out...

Our second full day in Ireland finds us kicking jet lag's ass. We forced ourselves to stay awake all day yesterday, finally going to bed at 10pm. I got up at an impressive 7:30am, and we were out the door for our day's events by 9:30am, ready to learn more about Irish history than you can shake a stick at.

Our first stop led us out of the Dublin area, south to Glendalough--which by many accounts is a straight shot down a north-south highway, then west on a country highway. Well, our GPS had other ideas. It chose a much more direct route--a route that took us down one-car wide country roads, twisting and turning through "mountains" in a remote landscape that alternated between post-apocalyptic wasteland and beautiful green Irish stereotypes:





I don't think I can really convey how small these roads were. Suffice to say, when things got narrow and curvy, SLOW would be printed on the road. When things got really narrow and curvy, the road would say VERY SLOW. And when the road got really, really narrow and curvy? DEAD SLOW. No joke. I didn't get a pic of that particular warning, so you'll have to take my word on how scary these were. This doesn't do it justice:





lolcatz actually enjoyed driving rally-style, and before long, we found ourselves in Glendalough, home of an ancient monastic site of churches and other buildings that have been remarkably preserved. Some parts of it are over 1000 years old:





The tower in the above pic has a legend associated with it. If you walk around it 7 times and make a wish to get married, the wish will come true. If you walk around it 7 times in the opposite direction and wish for divorce, you'll get that. Unfortunately, the tour guide didn't know which direction was which, so all the tourists avoided any circumnavigation.

Anyway, Glendalough was founded by St. Kevin in the 6th century. In becoming closer to God, St. Kevin did all sorts of interesting things, like sleeping in a narrow cave, as seen across the water here:





You're probably thinking I'm making that up, so allow me to prove that this cave was indeed the site of a monk's resting place:





Glendalough had other cool things, like a massive cemetery filled with Celtic crosses, including a giant one with an unknown date. Assorted ruined buildings, sculptures, views, and hikes were also there:





And when you get tired of walking around this ginormous place, there are lots of places to rest and take a break. Say, like, ON THIS STONE THRONE. Total style, man.





As if that wasn't enough history for one day, we then drove down to Wexford and the Irish National Heritage Park, a place that reconstructs Irish history from the Mesolithic Era through the Norman Period. While this stuff was fake, I was inexplicably almost more excited by it than St. Kevin's--which was the real thing. I don't know. There's just something incredibly cool about walking around a thatched hut...





...summoning pagan spirits in a stone circle:





...hanging out in a Viking boat:





...and learning about spiders:





Wait, what? Spiders? Yup. Scary ones, apparently. It must have been some sort of school project, but along with the recreated artifacts and settings, there were these bizarre hand-painted signs scattered throughout the park, giving helpful information about wildlife. And, um, vikings.





As you can see, it was a very informative day! We were pretty exhausted when we got back to our hotel, our brains overloaded by historical knowledge and Irish propaganda (the video at the Heritage Center was a little biased and chock full of Ireland's awesomeness).

I'll conclude with saying that thus far, we haven't been impressed with Irish TV. Best thing so far? Nothing to Declare, an Australian show that Ireland imports. It might be my new favorite show and has convinced me that Australia has both the nicest customs employees and the best airport security evah.

More tomorrow.

...deep in the heart of Texas!"

Fans of Pee-Wee's Big Adventure will know what scene I'm referencing there. Honestly, ever since this whole Texas trip has been in the making, I haven't been able to get that song out of my head.

Today, I set out from my beloved Pacific Northwest to the South Central part of our country, off to the surprisingly balmy Dallas/Ft. Worth metropolitan area. I won't lie: it was a miracle that I made that flight. Whenever I fly, I usually drive to the home of friends who live near the airport, park my car on their street, and then get one of them to kindly give me a ride. I'd arranged all my timing to get to the airport 90 minutes before the flight this morning but was thrown off by a few packing delays (hey, only 10 minutes) and then me hitting stand-still traffic on I-405. Between the drive to my friend's and then the drive to the airport, I ended up arriving exactly one hour before the flight departed. After getting through check-in, checking luggage, and security, I made it to my gate 15 minutes before departure, just as they were making the final boarding call. Yikes.

Of course, by that point, the Xanax was kicking in, so it all seemed pretty okay and cool. The Xanax is also probably responsible for me not freaking out when the captain made this announcement while waiting for take-off: "Hey, everybody, just wanted to welcome you aboard. We should have pretty clear skies to Dallas, where it's in the 80s with winds up to 35 and a lot of tornadoes in the area." Seriously, there was a collective gasp in the cabin. Then, after a slight pause: "Nah, just kidding,folks. The weather's fine there."

Oh, you wacky flight people.

Anyway, the flight and the crew were actually all quite lovely, and I made it to Texas safe and sound. Probably the most traumatic twist of the day came when I made a wrong turn in my rental car while following Rachel Caine back to her house. If you don't know who Rachel is...then, oh man, I think I need to do a pimping post sometime this weekend. She writes urban fantasy books for adults and vampire books for teens--and is awesome. She's also letting me stay with her while I'm in town for the library event/signing on Saturday.

So, yeah, I made a wrong turn, and this is one of those areas with a lot of divided highways, so it's hard to turn yourself back around and backtrack. It also reminds me of certain parts of Seattle where random turns inadvertently put you on highways you can't get off of (ahem, 99). Rachel and I eventually found each other via phone calls, after I pulled over at an apartment complex and got my location ID'd from two people in the parking lot. Well, one didn't speak English and didn't really help. The other guy kind of had the cross streets a little off. For my part, I helpfully told Rachel I was parked near a dumpster, little knowing there were about a dozen of them in this ginormous complex. After a tour of the apartment dumpsters, she eventually found me, and all ended well. I went to dinner with her and Mr. Rachel at a bona fide Texas steakhouse and am now settling in for who knows what kind of wacky mishaps tomorrow.

Addendum: I was just reading some comments on the last post, and I went through and deleted a few that I thought gave a way a *bit* too much about the books for people who may not have read them yet. Remember, I always read your comments and like them, so don't take it personally if spoilers get deleted. I'm just looking out for everyone. :)

Big news in Richelle's world. After much deliberation, lolcatz and I booked a trip to Ireland for March. This is exciting because Ireland has long been on my list of top places I've wanted to visit in the world. Ireland narrowly beat out Iceland and the UK as destinations, with a fare sale and a very pretty National Geographic book being the ultimate deciders. I've never taken a flight this long, let alone been off the continent, so this is pretty heady stuff.

I'm already getting lots of advice on places to see, so if anyone wants to weigh in, go for it! I'm the kind of person who could probably spend the entire time looking at castles and ruins, so I'll definitely have to diversify for sanity's sake. My year is looking like it's going to have at least five more trips, and they're all for work. With a job like mine, it would seem easy to fit in a vacation, but between deadlines and the work trips...well, it gets crazy figuring it all out.

Anyway, the other news is that the name for the small character in Blood Promise is still in limbo. I thought I had it, but some people are making me question it. So, we'll keep working on this. My editor finished reading the book and likes it and the character, which is good news. How sad would it have been to have so much build-up for someone and them have them get cut?

Oh, sorry. One more piece of business news. Vampire Academy sold UK rights, which means it's going to eventually be published over there on a more widespread basis. Right now, plenty of copies are showing up, but they're American imports. Penguin UK will start doing their own printing, however, which'll make the series easy to find.

Ok, that's all I've got tonight. A couple of people have commented that I haven't been blogging as much, which I've noticed too. I don't like this turn of events either, but lately, I just seem to be too wiped out at the end of the day to do much more than report events. I think it's all the deadlines and crazy schedules, so hopefully I'll be back to expounding on witty and profound life lessons soon!

Well.

It turns out I'm still in Michigan today. My flight wasn't actually delayed because of weather...but lolcatz and I were. We allowed extra time to get to the airport, but with the pre-plowed roads and snowbank that was our rental car, we took a little longer than we expected. Admittedly, the Kalamazoo Airport is a tiny place, and getting through security seriously takes about 5 minutes. So, while 45 minutes is the preferred time to allow, showing up 30 minutes beforehand isn't totally unreasonable.

Except, according to our airline customer service girl, we were there 28 minutes before our flight...making us 2 minutes too late to check our bags. We could have gotten on the plane, but one of our bags couldn't have. We were given a few options. 1. Ship the suitcase--except, well, they had no means to do it there. 2. Rent a car again, drive to Grand Rapids, catch a flight there, and get to Seattle seven hours later than expected. 3. Wait a day and take the same flight tomorrow. Once I recovered from my freakout, we finally opted for #3 and returned to my brother's with heavy hearts. I took the Xanax I would have taken on the plane and slept off my woes, feeling much better later.

So, it's turned into a semi-productive work day for me, and lolcatz is entertaining himself by playing Xbox with my nephews. The hardest part was knowing when our original flight landed in Seattle today...and that we weren't there. Still, here's hoping that all goes well and the snow currently falling in Seattle doesn't delay things on the other end tomorrow.

The really sad part about all this is that there was a discrepancy on the flight's departure time. Our original ticket and the airport's board and website listed a time ten minutes later than what the airline said it was when they denied our luggage. Admittedly, we really should have allowed more time overall, but if that later departure time had been accurate, we would have made the flight. So, I've mailed the airline with my opinions on their inconsistency, and we'll see what kind of response I get.

In closing, I offer you something better than the ranch dressing. After a long process (though not nearly as long as Shadow Kiss's), I'm happy to report that Vampire Academy 4 has a title...Blood Promise. Thanks so much for everyone's input throughout this!

Whew, sorry for going so long without a post. Traveling always keeps me away from the computer, and internet trouble + assorted wacky mishaps haven't helped. All in all, this Michigan trip has been productive for lolcatz and me. I'm pretty sure we've seen more family in the last week than we have in the last year.

This previous weekend, we drove north of Kalamazoo to see some of his family. We holed up with his sister, along with two other siblings and everyone's significant others. Much merriment and gaming ensued, including the discovery of my new favorite game: Boxers or Briefs. Don't worry--it's not as dirty as it sounds. (Maybe that's a disappointment to you). All was going well until about our 36th hour together, at which point, we began getting sick one by one. Within an incredibly short span of time, five of the eight of us became sick with either stomach flu or food poisoning. We're not sure what it was. Regardless, it was horrible, and I was one of the five. lolcatz was not one of the five, which puts him under suspicion of poisoning. The fact that he had a flu shot might be part of what saved him. He blames our illness on what is now dubbed as Pudding-Cake-In-A-Bowl. In true Midwest tradition, it's a layered dessert of crumbled chocolate cake, chocolate pudding, canned cherry pie filling, and Cool-Whip. It also has its own hip-hop theme song, but that's neither here nor there. I don't really see how that could have made anybody sick, but he didn't eat any and stayed healthy.

And again, whether it was a virus or PCIAB, the results still sucked. I don't get sick very often and am so arrogant about that fact that I don't get flu shots. After this weekend, I might change my mind for future years. My stomach was not meant to feel that way, nor was womankind meant to subsist on Saltines and 7up.

Anyway, I'm able to keep food down today, just in time for our flight back home tomorrow morning. Unfortunately, also in true Midwest tradition, we're in the midst of a snow storm. My nephews are praying for a snow day, but I have a feeling a snow day for them will mean a delayed flight for me. Not only will that keep me from a 1-year old's birthday party, it'll also delay Succubus Heat and Vampire Academy 4 production. Nobody wants that. So, cross your fingers for safe and speedy flights.

In closing, I leave you with this image of a ranch dressing fountain. I've never seen one before out here, but I'm kind of surprised I haven't. I hope I never see one while in the midst of stomach flu.

Sorry for the radio silence. I used to always read authors' websites and hear them say things like, "Well, I can't keep up with email and the internet because I'm sure you'd rather I spent my time writing books." I thought that was a line, but lately, I kind of feel that way. Writing the fourth Vampire Academy book and trying to have a life seem to be taking up an awful lot of time.

Added onto that, lolcatz and I spent our day yesterday traveling to my beautiful hometown of Kalamazoo, MI, which is mercifully free of snowfall but as cold as I expected. To get to Kalamazoo, you have to go to a big city and then take a tiny plane here. We flew in by way of Cincinnati, at which point, we were shuffled off to their C terminal. That terminal isn't even connected to the main airport, and they make you take a bus to get to it. Once there, however, you can see that that's where all of their exotic flights take off out of:









Honestly, I don't even know where Appleton is, but surprisingly, a lot of people wanted to go there. Anyway, we're safe and sound here, and I have little report on today. I do, however, have a question for ya'll regarding titles for VA4. Tell me how these strike you:

Blood Promise
Promise Mark
Dreambound

Go!

Well, I'm happy to say I made it back to beautiful Seattle this morning. The airports weren't crazy, the flight arrived early, and I dozed for most of it anyway. Can't beat that. And, when I got home, I discovered that Shadow Kiss is still on the New York Times and USA Today lists for a second week, which is utterly stunning news. Thanks so much to those of you have been getting the book!

Yesterday's a long day to recap, so I'm going to do it in two parts. This first one will be about my assorted culinary adventures. You see, I discovered a few days ago that my hotel was less than two blocks away from Gordon Ramsay's London restaurant.





Being a devotee of Hell's Kitchen and Kitchen Nightmares, it seemed a crime for me not to go. Considering lunch times weren't convenient and the dinner menu entrees use chicken livers as garnish, I opted for breakfast. The restaurant is in a hotel, and breakfast is served in the bar area, which is semi-casual. Still, I felt very uncultured, particularly when I dropped my napkin on the floor and stole one from a neighboring empty table. When the waiter walked by, he immediately noticed the missing napkin and had to assess how in the world that could have happened. As soon as I explained, he swooped in and retrieved my fallen one, carefully folded it, and carried it away.

The food itself was okay. I ordered eggs florentine because I figured this was the place to try hollandaise sauce if I was ever going to do it. I didn't love it, but I didn't hate it either. I also added on a trip to the fruit/pastry bar so I could check that out. It was good, but it struck me as being not much different than any other hotel's morning continental buffet for people on the run. Maybe I should have tried dinner after all to get the full experience. Regardless, I did sneak a photo of the interior, but because I didn't want to look like a touristy savage, I turned the flash off and did it covertly, so it's blurred:





I'm not ready to write off Gordon yet, though I think my favorite dinner in New York was at Tamarind, the Indian restaurant with the deep fried cauliflower. I'm also pretty enamored with a place called AYZA that I went to with author Jackie Kessler. AYZA is--wait for it--a wine and chocolate bar. Yeah. And the other key component of their menu is cheese. Like, seriously. Cheese, wine, and chocolate form most of my food pyramid.

Whenever I go to wine bars, I often get flights so that I can sample different types of wine. Flight glasses are usually small, and a 3-glass flight isn't unreasonable for just one person. So, it didn't seem weird to me when I ordered two flights of different white wines for Jackie and me to try. The waitress seemed a little surprised by this, and we soon discovered why:





Holy crap. That's a lot of wine. I guess AYZA doesn't skimp on their sample sizes. They also don't skimp on wine, period, because at one point, they brought us a special "complimentary" sample of a hot spiced wine they were promoting--because clearly, we needed more. All in all, this was a great place, though there was one moment of weirdness (I mean, weirder than our table being covered in wine glasses) when it appeared as though someone had checked their baby over in the coat check section. The stroller sat there for a long time, and we were getting worried until someone finally retrieved it. I wanted to take a picture, but Jackie said I couldn't exploit a baby on my blog.

Anyway, that's my food write-up. I'll talk more about the awesome Books of Wonder signing and red carpet of authors that happened later in the day. For now, I hope you guys all have a Happy Thanksgiving and/or Thursday!

Holy smokes you, guys. My East Coast trip is winding down. I've been having a great time, but I confess, it's going to be relief to fly home on Wednesday and get back to normal Richelle life. I'm feeling particularly twitchy over not having been to the gym in a few weeks, thanks to being sick and now traveling. Plus, I probably should start writing another book or something, huh?

I still have all of tomorrow in New York City, though, and today started off with another round of bookstore visits and stock signings. In the afternoon, we shook things up, and I got to go visit Elizabeth Irwin High School. Now, for some reason, I just don't picture children growing up in New York, even though I know they must. It seems like a place only adults live in, so going to an actual school in the city was pretty awesome already. But the event itself was awesomer still! A group of students came and hung out with me in a classroom on their lunch period, and we all talked while they ate. They asked me questions about VA and writing, and I probed them for info on what books they like--and discovered they were much more well-read than me. Thanks for a great time, guys--and for making me feel like I need to start reading more!

After that, I made my Nanette Lepore visit, which leaves me open to culture tomorrow. I also browsed around in other places but didn't buy anything--much to the dismay of my hotel's doorman, who seems personally vested in my shopping experiences. My fun-filled day wrapped up with dinner with my agent, editor, and publicist. There, we celebrated Shadow Kiss and are this much closer to naming #4.

Hanging out with them was informative, and here's what I learned tonight. You can apparently see celebrities in New York City all the time. Like, I was amazed while listening to the publishing gang cite off all the stars they've seen while living here. Brad Pitt. Kid Rock. Everyone from the cast of Gossip Girl (except Chuck Bass, sadly). In fact, when I got back to the hotel, the doorman who really wants me to buy something pointed out several events within walking distance that had assorted stars at them tonight. I wasn't hardcore enough to go seek out these places and wait among crowds, but I confess, I really would like to see some random celebrity on the street or in a restaurant before I head back west. The only celebrities people seem to see in Seattle are Bill Gates, Kurt Cobain's daughter, and Bill Nye the Science Guy. Those are cool folks, don't get me wrong, but it's a different kind of cool. So, I'll keep my eyes open for any wayward stars, though the pessimist in me doesn't think it'll happen on this trip.

I guess that's all I've got for you tonight. I'll try to be cultured tomorrow and report back. Otherwise, I hope that if you live around here, you'll come visit me at Books of Wonder, on Tuesday from 5-7pm. It'll be me and some other authors on a panel: reading a little, answering questions, and signing. Even if you can't make it for the whole thing, I still hope you'll stop by at some point and say hello!

For whatever reason, Philcon let me off on Sunday, which meant I got to escape New Jersey and head over to the city that the con used to actually be in: Philadelphia! While the City of Brotherly Love holds many compelling attractions, I'm afraid there was one that dominated all others for me: my sister!

My sister and my 17-year old nephew drove in from the suburbs of Philly to come see me, fighting the treacherous traffic of two states. I haven't seen my sister in almost 15 years, so this was quite the reunion. It was amazing to see how much she and I have in common, despite the time and distance. We both like cats, reality tv, sparkly clothing, and coconut rum. I also noticed that she and my nephew share a very similar sense of humor with me, which must apparently be affixed to some Mead genes. Conversation was wacky and witty and full of good times.

The plan had been to bum around Philadelphia, see the Liberty Bell, and get lunch. The way the timing worked out, however, we never made it to the Liberty Bell--which, despite my teasing, really didn't ruin my trip. Since we're now allegedly a socialist/Marxist country, that founding fathers stuff probably isn't important anyway. Instead, I got to see Penn's Landing and hang out around South Street, which reminds me a lot of Capitol Hill in Seattle.

I also learned all sorts of fun facts about Philadelphia. For example, Cheez Whiz appears to be a key part of the culture. There were tubs of it at a Philly steak sandwich place, and even the potato skins at lunch had it on them. And speaking of Philly steak sandwiches...wow, those are definitely part of Philadelphia culture. There are apparently hardcore rivalries between different establishments, and lines wrap around the buildings. In other Philadelphia lore, I also learned that the guy who plays Ben Franklin at the colonial reenactment attractions married the woman who plays Betsey Ross. If that doesn't bring hope and good cheer to our cynical, economically depressed nation, I don't know what else will. And finally, I discovered a gas station chain called Wawa out here. If you don't know about this place, allow me to get straight to the point:





They have like 30 pots of coffee sitting out that you can mix and match from! Not only do they have Kona, they also have all the usual delicious suspects: hazelnut, French vanilla, etc. Oh, man. I don't know why this idea hasn't reached Seattle yet. Maybe our coffee-dependent city couldn't handle that much accessibility. It'd be like locking an alcoholic up in a liquor store for the night.

Anyway, I finally had to catch a train and bring my Philly adventures and learning experiences to a close. Before I did, my nephew posed with me in front of some authentic Philadelphia grafitti, in order to capture some local atmosphere:





For those who doubt that my hair is naturally red underneath the enhancement I give it, I think this picture will put your fears to rest. There's real red hair in the Mead family, which bodes well for my future offspring. I'm also fascinated by the fact that my nephew plays water polo. Considering I can barely do a dog paddle, I'm going to go ahead and assume that trait came from the other side of his family.

Tonight finds me back in New York City, bracing for a startlingly early day of stock signings and a school visit. In looking at my itinerary, I've discovered something moved that I didn't notice, and I actually have part of Tuesday free. I'd pretty much written off any downtime in New York, which now presents the question: if you had only one afternoon to do anything in New York City, what would you do? So far the contenders for me are the Nanette Lepore store and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Priorities, baby.

New York minutes have nothing on Philadelphia minutes. Day 2 of Philcon found me running errands everywhere! I rolled out of bed after being kept awake half the night by the potentially possessed thermostat in my room and headed out to do stock signings. Brittany and Saul came out to see me in New Jersey (thanks for making the trek, guys!), and then this group was waiting for me when I went to a bookstore in downtown Philly:





Pretty awesome for what was just supposed to be a stock signing! (Where did Justin go?) After I signed the store's books, Barnes & Noble let us commandeer a corner upstairs so that I could chat with everybody and sign the books they'd brought in. We had a little less than an hour and talked about all sorts of Rose and Georgina things. Unfortunately for a couple people, a few spoilers slipped. Considering how I've been policing the blog, I should have been more careful! Everyone seemed okay with it, and I had a really awesome time meeting everyone. Thanks so much to all of you for swinging by--and thanks also to the random person I accosted to take the picture.

Afterward, I had panels and a fun dinner that'll be part of tomorrow's entry. One panel found me back with Mary Robinette Kowal, whom I then tagged along with afterward. Tonight was Party Night. It seemed like everyone and their brother was having a party in their room for one assorted reason or another. We found the Picacios and spent a lot of time at the SFWA suite party.

At one point, we bounced to a different party that was being held to support Reno's bid for 2011 Worldcon. For those not familiar with it, it's a big industry sf/fantasy con that changes locations every year. Locations are decided by voting. Reno's rival in 2011? Seattle. Now, I can't say enough how nice it would be to have a major con in Seattle. We never get anything. The Reno people had some pretty slick pitching, though. It was a compelling case. A sci-fi con with a wedding chapel on-hand? Consider the possibilities. Later, however, we visited the Seattle group's party. They had much better candy and don't require a plane ride, so now I don't know what to think.

While walking down the bid party hall, we noticed something odd on the floor. Arrows formed from Twilight bookmarks:





We ignored them at first, but they kept appearing and we started speculating about where they went. That was when a small boy mysteriously came out of nowhere and said, "Come here! Follow the arrows." It kind of had the early makings of a horror movie. We were on our way to the Seattle room, and he grew distraught when we paused by it. "No! Not there. This way." We asked where he was taking us, but all he'd say was, "A party, come on." Finally, we reached this ominous door adorned with a lone streamer:





The boy urged us to enter, but we weren't feeling it. We started to leave, and then the door opened and a woman came out. The rest of the room was blocked from view with streamers/dark sheeting, and most of the lights were off. The woman told us to come in and have ice cream. She seemed nice, but it kind of had a Hansel and Gretel feel along with the horror movie thing. Like, we'd look into a giant cavernous freezer and ask, "Where's the ice cream?" And then we'd get pushed in and locked up. The boy seemed distraught at our refusal and (lightly) poked each of us with toothpicks to test if we were vampires(?). I asked him to do it to John again so that I could take a picture. That was when the boy ran off. My guess is that if I'd actually gotten him to pose for a photo, there would be NOTHING THERE in the place he was standing.

This morning, after a starstruck cab ride through Times Square, I found myself at Penn Station, ready to take on the second leg of my East Coast trip. No joke: Penn Station is harder to navigate than an airport. It's easy to find everything, but everyone waits with palpable tension for your train's track to pop up on a screen. Then, you and everyone else have 10 minutes to run to said track and hope you don't miss the train. I caught mine with no worries and did the easy 1-hour trip over to Philadelphia--at which point, I then took a cab over the river to Cherry Hill, New Jersey to attend Philcon.

Philcon is a nice little sci-fi/fantasy con, though so far, it's been a little short on costumes. If I can't get my picture taken with Darth Vadar and/or some random Starfleet officer at a con, I question the experience. But everyone's been really nice, and it's been fun so far. I had two panels today that had lots of interesting people on them. Something at one panel did bother me a little, but that's neither here nor there. Mostly it made me all quiet, but hey, maybe I was still adjusting to Eastern time.

Best part of the con? The Picacio Family!





This is John Picacio, one of the con's guests of honor and an amazing artist. He and his wife Traci hung out with Team Seattle at Norwescon last spring, and John played a big role in getting me here. They're really great people, and they took me under their wing for good times at the art show, the hotel bar, and a party we kind of crashed.

In the bar, we were joined by Mary Robinette Kowal, an author who won the John W. Campbell award, a presitigious writing award that yields a tiara as part of the prize. Yeah, I'm jealous.





The night ended when I accidentally knocked over John's glass and broke it while leaning in for that picture. It was just as well because there also appears to be some sort of cowboy convention going on at the hotel right now. Some of them were starting to make their way to the bar, and we all know who wins when SF people clash with cowboys.





Fun fact: this hotel is bragging up that it has "Guaranteed" on-time wake-up calls. Like, it's on signs and everything, and I was asked if I wanted one at check-in...which now makes me wonder, is this a serioius problem in hotels across the country? Wake-up calls at the wrong time? No wake-up call at all?

I'll leave you to ponder that as I go to bed. Philly, Cherry Hill, and Moorehouse peeps--I hope I'll see you tomorrow!