These past few days have been beyond surreal. On Thursday, just as I was driving past Mount Shasta, my publisher sent me this picture and I had to pull over and cry.
And then I had to stop myself from crying because I still had another six hours to drive.
On Saturday, I was able to participate in an incredible YA event in The Dalles, Oregon. The first author I was introduced to was Graham Salisbury. I was so star struck all I could do was babble something about Hawai’i and I love your books and wowowowow. And then they introduced me to my table partner, Virginia Euwer Wolff, who stood next to me flipping through my novel for a half hour. I don’t think I slept that night.
And then Sunday I read in public for the first time since I was a teacher to an intimate and enthusiastic audience at A Children’s Place in Portland.
And then today I got to surprise one of the people I acknowledged in the back of the book. Nothing quite hit me like that moment.
Surely this must be some sort of dream. Some sort of amazing dream.
I Was a Young Adult Writer 