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Midnight special

In Skudenes. Photo courtesy of Jose Luis Zaragoza.It’s late. I’m triple-espresso awake do to some strange residual jetlag, mixed with insomnia. Not to mention tomorrow—heck this entire week, will be nothing but an indulgent, two-fisted writing binge (much needed), hence I’m afflicted with work-fever, feeling like a kid on Christmas Eve.

So what better time to catch up on recent doings, of which there have been many.

Did I mention Norway?

Yes, this trip to Northern Europe finally came to fruition and was absolutely worth the wait (and 23 hour journey each way, via Amsterdam).

Oslo was splendid and it was a pleasure meeting folks from my Norwegian publisher, Pantagruel. (Thanks Alex!)

And yes, Norway made my heart quiver with envy as I stared on the outside looking in, to a culture with universal healthcare, free college, and government-paid maternity and paternity leave (1 year for moms and 3 months for dads). All for a tax rate equivalent to what I’m paying now. Ah, America…land of the free, home of the reactionary, polarized, hyper-political obstructionist. Ah, but I digress…

Politics aside, the lucid dream of the week was the SILK Festival in Skudenes, a seaside village with a population lower than the student body of a typical Texas high school—small, but in a gorgeous location—pristine, persevered, and magical.

And the lovely people we hung out with (from the UK, Norway, Iraq, Spain, Nigeria, Vietnam) were among the most literate, interesting, and fantastically unpretentious folks we’d ever met.

It’s no coincidence that we’re planning on sending a daughter (or two) back to Norway as exchange students.

The view from the podium at the Thousand Oaks Civic Arts Plaza. What, no mosh pit? And before I’d even unpacked, I was off again, this time to California for the 5th Annual Thousand Oaks Reads. Previous authors included David Eggers and Jonathan Safran Foer—heady company, to say the least.

The venue was enormous and the production first-class. I felt like a rock star, minus the contract clauses about no brown M&M’s in the dressing room. (There was a bottle of peach schnapps, leftover from a previous headliner, perhaps?)

So many cameras. Note to self: fix zipper and check teeth of spinach.And last, but not least, I had yet another film meeting. It’s still a long-shot, but in the search to find a proper home for my literary child, we’re getting closer and closer.

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Reader Comments (2)

I'm still looking at stats, and Oscar Holden got knocked of the top of the stack last week and replaced by a FORGOTTEN BOOKMARK. A book opening in the blog vein. "Author's" name is admittedly a bit of a misnomer. Nothing like Oscar mind you, but the subject truly is a perfect title. I'm not boosting the book. Just sayin'.

Welcome back. To both you and your navigator.
November 14, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterDave Dubé
Ugh. I guess this is the price you pay for a little success. But since the boots have stepped in it, a line from a Nancy Sinatra tune comes to mind.
November 15, 2011 | Unregistered CommenterDave Dubé

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