Bad Dates and Great Days
I have returned from LA with a tiara and today in Lexington is its own bookchella
First up, thanks for some very fun responses to the question of your own dates from hell.
I promised I’d tell mine, and so I will. It was actually the first real date I had, in high school. I know it will shock you to learn that I was one of those weird girls with hidden/crippling social anxiety in high school and didn’t date much. HOWEVER, I was certainly not immune to crushes. And I developed one on a kid we’ll call B. B had a girlfriend who was smart and so, from this, I inferred that he had hidden depths. The whole Jordan Catalano of it all. (Speaking of which, Jared Leto is someone who maybe should consider hiding his depths… Anyhoo.)
B and smart girlfriend broke up and I managed to be obvious enough in my flirting and somehow he asked me out. THIS WAS IT. I was extremely excited. He came to fetch me in his pick-up truck and I had no idea what to expect — would there be a drive out of town to a bookstore? Would we just drive the circle of our small town (not as exciting but fine)? Would we have heartfelt, soul-deep conversations in which it turned out we shared the same favorite music and ideas about reality? Would we go to the movies? Again, fine. Our options were limited. I wish that explained what happened next, and yet.
Certainly, we can say this date took an unexpected turn. B, it turned out, was taking me spotlighting deer. So, yeah, we drove around murdery backroads and OFF THEM — where there were zero opportunities to open the car door and try to escape, because middle of nowhere — and shined extremely, RUDELY bright lights at poor deer until it was time to go home. The conversation was…sparse. Even from this grown-up vantage point, I’m left with so many questions. SO. MANY.
Honestly, your stories were all about truly abysmal dates so, everyone’s a winner: Heath, Heather, Renata, and Foxtwin, send me your addresses and I will send you signed books!
speaking of books!
We had an absolutely fantastic trip to Los Angeles. The Festival of Books was incredible, as always, and I got to moderate a fabulous conversation between three amazing writers (I’m going to post my moderating thoughts/tips in a future post).
It turned out the Bridgerton Experience — an interactive 90 minute queen’s ball — was in our hotel so, duh, we went.
We went to museums and shopping and saw friends and I took my souvenir tiara everywhere and encouraged everyone to try it on. It wasn’t nature, but it was healing.
Also, Jay Clendenin from the LA Times was shooting pictures of people and I was one of them?
Somehow I made the best of collection?
Anyway, it was fabulous. I’ve been in catch-up mode ever since. Today alone in Lexington we had a mini-retreat at a GORGEOUS donated space, Base 249, for the Lexington Writer’s Room.
And I did some signing and had my heart absolutely filled until it nearly leaked tears out my eyes meeting readers at Indie Bookstore Day at Joseph-Beth Lexington.
Feeling grateful. And again, thank you all so so much for your support of the LWR’s recovery. People are good, actually. Especially book people.
A nice reminder.
“Oh the Jordan Catalano of it all!” If you get it, you get it.
Hi Gwenda, I don't know if I would describe my experience as the date from hell, but I thought it might make you smile nonetheless! https://terryfreedman.substack.com/p/my-worst-date-ever