Sunday, April 18, 2010
The morning has been broken wide by sun. The trees that hadn't bloomed before I left for Appleton are shockingly alive; everything is color. I'm hopping a train for Philadelphia in a few hours and walking, then, to the Philadelphia Book Festival, to see a few friends and to have the honor of reading with Catherine Murdock and Rita Williams-Garcia.
A few days ago, in Appleton, a seventh grader asked what it is like to live the author life.
It's a privilege, I said. And I meant it.