Book Fest in Virginia

Just got back from the Virginia Festival of the Book. Got there Friday evening, brain addled because I hadn't slept the night before and there was this "soiree" for the mystery writers at a very cool place called the Gravity Lounge. It was like a library, bar, tea house kind of place. Had some great books. One I wanted but didn't get was a book about the seventies from Rolling Stone Mag. I probably really need it too for the Kaleidoscope book. I've decided that's the next book I'm going to write. The crime novel series will just have to wait. Anyway, I didn't know anyone at this soiree and didn't have the inner resources to go around being all friendly, so I slunk down in a chair with a book, ate a few cookies and then disappeared, back onto the highway to Richmond where I spend the night at Nikki Turner's gorgeous new house. That was the respite I needed.
Saturday started off great because I ran into Richard Peabody. He's a gem. Funny, smart and political. Well, I guess we're all political these days as we watch our world being blasted into oblivion by the neocons and their drones. Anyway, the luncheon was fine. I was seated next to a small arms analyst for the military. Yes, that idea is scary but also quite useful if you're a writer and you want to write about things that are really going on in the world. Went to a good panel on getting in the publishing business. Then, oh then, I signed up for a video interview with "Author Views" so there's an interview of me somewhere on the internet. I thought it was good practice for the whole media thing.
My own panel went fairly well. The other panelists were best selling authors and I wasn't sure I was supposed to be there with them, but my so-called academic background, I guess, provided something to talk about. The only thing is that I've been away from academia for quite a while and they don't seem to be clamoring for me to come back. Still I guess if you've once learned to be pedantic, that never leaves you. But some interesting points were raised--especially the whole divided between genres. Karin Slaughter was very funny and pointed about the issue. Anyway, it's something I'll be thinking about for a while.
The trip culminated in my nightmare drive home. Thick wads of fog dotted the highway. It was night, I was tired. I actually thought of that scene in Psycho where Janet Leigh is driving at night and her eyes keep flicking to the rear view mirror and the lights behind her hurt her eyes. And that music was running through my head. I finally realized I would never get home if I had to drive twenty miles an hour through Virginia, so I pulled off in Lexington because there were signs for motels, but OF COURSE it was false advertising. So there I was driving around Lexington in fog thick as cotton--SNOW on the side of the roads--on roads that were crazy with construction. I think when I drove onto the VMI campus I almost cried. Stopped at Hampton Suites which is not what I wanted--and they had only exorbitantly priced smoking rooms.
So I crawled back to the highway, and fought through the fog to the next exit and pulled up to . . . THE BATES MOTEL!!! I swear to God, from the crummy wallpaper to the horrible smell to the window unit heater/air conditioner it was the absolute prototype for Norman Bates' hotel--except that it was much smaller, the room I mean. The room was tiny, the bathroom tiny, the bedspread smelled like b.o. but I couldn't bring myself to leave. The scariest part was sitting on the toilet and seeing the drain in the shower. Fortunately, as I said, I was already on the toilet.
But I did manage to sleep some and in the morning when I woke up and saw an orange blaze over the mountains and the snow on the ground and the wooden fence all rustic looking and picturesque, I didn't mind it. In fact, I felt grateful. We forget how much we have in our lives. I got back on the road. The fog was gone, and I was able to drive through the only piece of winter I had all year. It was transcendent.