In mid December I took a Saturday night red-eye to South Florida. I came down with a cold the Friday before I left--achy throat, runny nose, itchy eyes. I doctored myself with echinacea, Sudafed, Advil, and several packets of Emergen - C, but I was feeling less than wonderful when I landed at 6 AM in Ft. Lauderdale.
An hour later I was in Aventura, taking a nap at my wonderful cousins'. I was tempted to stay in bed, or take in the gorgeous view from their twenty-fourth floor condominium, but I had bookstores to visit, books to sign. My cousins had graciously offered me the use of their second car. Two weeks before I had contacted all the Barnes & Nobles and Borders in the area, spoken with managers, and offered to come by and sign stock. Using the stores' zip codes, my husband had plotted my itinerary, and I had printed out Mapquest directions from store to store.
I had never driven in Florida before. My husband, supportive as he is, had conveyed some concern. And Mapquest, as you may know, isn't perfect. My cousin pointed out that the Mapquest directions for leaving Mystic Pointe were wrong.
Not encouraging. But I was determined. And I had a cell phone. And a bag of nosh that my cousin's wife packed for me, along with throat lozenges and a bottle of water.
After an initial blunder (Mapquest's ambiguous directions), I was headed for the turnpike and my first stop. Six hours later I had visited eight chain stores in Kendall, Miami, South Miami, and Coral Gables. I signed stock. I chatted with the people who sell my books. I met with Michael, a manager who writes poetry (he gave me clearer and more accurate to the next store). Not all of the stores had received the copies of my books that they'd ordered. Several stores supposedly had recevied the copies--but they were nowhere to be found. The mystery of my mystery. And I almost gave up finding a parking spot in the enormous Dolphin Mall, which had gridlock. I was exhausted and achy. I wanted to lay my head on the steering wheel and cry. But I found a spot, and inside the Borders I met an area marketing manager with whom I'd corresponded the week before.
As Molly's Bubbie G would say, it was bashert.
From the Dolphin mall I headed to Palm Beach, where I would be speaking that night. The route was fairly direct - I took the I 95 north -- and I planned to visit three more stores. But it was getting a little late, day had given way to night. As I approached West Palm Beach I was becoming apprehensive about finding my way in the sudden darkness. So I phoned my husband back in L.A., used the speaker-phone feature on my cell phone, and let him do the navigating.
Better than GPS.
The Palm Beach parents' event, sponsored by the Palm Beach Synagogue, was held at the lovely home of one of the congregants, whose brother, as it turns out, lives in Los Angeles. We all talked about the subject of Now You See Me... - teens at risk, the dangers of the Internet, the myriad pressures young people face. We discussed balancing the importance of trusting our children with the need to protect them. Later, I had the pleasure of chatting with Cheryl Kravetz and Jeff Jacobus from Palm Beach's Classic Bookshop. Cheryl had made my day a few weeks earlier when I cold-called the bookstore. "You're Rochelle Krich!" she had exclaimed. "I love your books!"
The drive home from Palm Beach was traffic-free and uneventful. Back at my cousins' I had a glass of hot tea and a good night's sleep--probably because I hadn't brought my lap top, and my cousins don't have a computer. Scary for me, yet somehow liberating.
I did ask my husband to check my e-mail messages. Because you never know, right?
This Sunday, October 7, thirteen past presidents of Sisters in Crime, including myself, will be doing events around the country, signing and talking about their short stories in Sisters on the Case, a just released Sisters in Crime anthology edited by SinC founder Sara Paretsky.
Recent Comments