Processing the Printz Experience

Yes. I know it’s been a while. So tempting to say I’ve been coming up with new ice cream flavors or painting my toes with obscure messages (um, not of the Lindsay Lohan variety…) or stuck in a yoga pose I couldn’t get out of.
But the truth is, it’s just been an insanely busy time. Novel deadline. Short story deadline. Essay deadline. Printz speech deadline. End of school for The Boy. ALA. Dress shopping for the Printz. (Woot!) My total dress ownership went from two to five in a weekend.

ALA and the Printz celebration was truly magical. Meeting the Printz committee…well, I really wished we could go bowling together. 🙂 Just magical.

I would like to post about the Printz experience at some point, but right now, I’m still sort of processing it. It was such an amazing, overwhelming, emotional experience–one of the biggest of my life–and every time I try to write about it, I can’t seem to do it. Down the road. Suffice to say, it was a ride on a sparkle pony named Ginger. See? That makes no sense, does it? In my head it does. And that’s why I’m going to wait.

In the meantime, you can relive the Printz evening if you like via this link to the speeches. You won’t be able to see our shoes (they were all fabulous) or see Deborah Heiligman lay a kiss on me, Britney-Madonna styles (You didn’t know the mega-award-winning author of CHARLES AND EMMA could throw down, did you?), or watch me get all tongue-tied around Adam Rapp, but you can catch everything else. It was a truly fun, funny, inspiring evening. Hope you enjoy.

And if you’re not sick of me after that, there’s also this:
Heh. I think that may need to be my new author photo.

I’m almost finished with this very, very, very late draft of BEAUTY QUEENS. So by next week, I should be blogging more regularly. And we may need to do a round of “Ask the Author.” Not sure which author. Maybe Edgar Allan Poe. Or Mark Twain. I’ve always wanted to pretend to be one of those guys.

Till next week.

***Huh. For some reason, LJ is not allowing me to post my music selection. What gives, LJ?
***Okay, it let me type, but I can’t actually SEE what I’m typing, which is why Ray LaMontagne is spelled “LaMontagnero.” *sigh*

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