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Coming soon in paperback, hooray!

Next month the paperback edition of my second book, The Popularity Papers 2: The Long-Distance Dispatch Between Lydia Goldblatt and Julie Graham-Chang is coming out! In it Lydia and her family relocate to London for six months, and she and Julie email and chat online about starting junior high and living in another country.

I'm often asked if my books are based on my own life, and while I can't say that they really are, I can't say that they aren't, either. When my brother and I were kids our best friends moved away to England, and we traveled there to visit them. This was during a magical time called "The 80s" where looking like this was awesome:

Too cool for school.

See any familiar faces? Anyone who reads my books knows that I believe that true friendship can withstand both distance and time. That boy on the left with the super awesome sneakers? That's my friend Peter, and if you check out the , you can see that the wedding we drove across the country to be at was his. Pretty neat, right?

I only have a few pictures from that trip (special thanks to Peter's mom for sending them to me) but it wasn't the last time I'd be in the United Kingdom. In 1998 I was back, traveling with three of my best friends, and I thought it would be fun to post some pictures of me on that trip. In my memory I had all these photos of myself running around England and Scotland and Ireland, when in truth in 1998 I didn't own a digital camera so I was sparing with my picture-taking (and because I was taking the pictures I'm not in very many of them). So after an exhaustive search of my photo albums, this was pretty much all I could come up with:

On a ferry to the Isle of Mull with Kit and Sarah. Apparently I really loved wearing windbreakers.


Atop Giant's Causeway in Northern Ireland.

One of my all-time favorite pictures with Kit, and we've been friends since we were 13, so there are many.

I love these photos, but you kind of have to take my word for it that they were taken in the UK (except for the one on the Giant's Causeway, and in that instance you just have to take my word for it that it's actually me sitting there). I thought I had all these shots of me in Oxford and London and Glasgow and Manchester but in reality I just have pictures that I took of other people in Oxford and London and Glasgow and Manchester.

The way I see it, there are only two ways to rectify this situation. The first would be for Jason to send me to England, which I happen to think is a fabulous idea. If sent me to England, I would get so many great photos! I would take a photo in front of Big Ben, I would go to Bath like the Goldblatts and the Graham-Changs do in PP2--I would do such a fantastic job of putting my face in front of England's landmarks. When I mentioned this brilliant idea to Jason, he just laughed and laughed and laughed and I don't think he took me seriously. And so, Plan B!

One of the perils of living in London is attacks by gigantic American authors.

Meet Anya! She's pretty new.

Hi Everyone!

So we went and had a baby. She's pretty great, but taking care of her takes a lot of time (mostly doing laundry). But no worries, I'm back to writing and drawing books and I'm training her how to color them in. So far she just wants to put the markers into her mouth. It's an uphill process. But I'm really excited about PP4 coming out in April (The Popularity Papers 4: The Rocky Road Trip of Lydia Goldblatt and Julie Graham-Chang) so I'll be doing some touring again and updating the blog on a more regular basis. In theory...

3:15am EST. Wake up, shower, finish packing.

4:04am EST. WAWA! Because you can't leave for a journey/come home from a journey without first going to Wawa. PHILLY LAW.

4:43am EST. My dearest most wonderfullest husband drops me off at Philadelphia International Airport.

4:51am EST. An airport worker tries to convince me that my rolly suitcase is too large for the overhead compartment, and that I need to check the bag. I freeze her with my super-terrifying Death Glare, remove a sweater from the rolly suitcase, put it in my other bag, and go on my merry way through security.

5:01am EST. I get through security and put the sweater back in the rolly suitcase.

6:03am EST. The rolly suitcase, with the super-puffy sweater, fits into the overhead compartment JUST FINE.

6:15am EST to 9:15am PST. Flight from Philly to San Francisco.

After landing, I picked up my Big White SUV, which I have named Moby D, and used the Abrams GPS to drive up to Book Passages in Marin County. The GPS has two names--

Name for when the GPS is behaving: Buddy

"Okay, I turned left, where to now Buddy? Drive 1.9 miles? Okay Buddy!"

Name for when the GPS is not behaving: Señor Poopypants.

"What do you mean, you've lost satellite feed? Do not make me throw you into the San Francisco Bay, Señor Poopypants!"

After a massive salad at the Book Passages cafe (so good to eat something green after my breakfast of pita, cheese, and leftover hamentashen) (I don't miss airplane food, but I do miss the days when it was free) I met up with two women named Susan and Sue. They have last names. I am really, really tired and don't quite remember them. But I slurped down a mocha and Sue took me to the Marin Elementary School.

I'm not exactly sure what I said to the kids, but I was powered by mocha and adrenaline and it seemed to go pretty well. The kids were great and asked terrific questions, and I think that I answered them with words.

Back in Moby D, I drove into San Francisco and found the hotel. In order to get into the garage the receptionist, Hester (also known as AWESOME HESTER) measured Moby D and then guided me, airport tarmac employee-style, into the narrow entrance of the underground garage.

7:39pm PST. Begged the Spirit of Jet Lag to let me stay awake until at least 8 so that I could sleep through the night.

2:02am PST. AWAKE!!! Oh Spirit of Jet Lag, please oh please be merciful to me today?

I'll be at at 4:30 today--come on down if you're in the San Francisco area and you want to hear me say some words!

Fred the Fish and Sam Clam were best friends, even though Fred the Fish was pretty square (he always goes to school) and Sam Clam was a little wild (he never met a mussel that he didn't want to pump). But still they were the best of friends.

One day, Fred's school was caught and he became an excellent entree at a local bistro. But Fred's little fishy soul went to heaven, where he got some white robes, a halo, and a harp, and Fred was happy.

But he missed his friend. One day, during harp rehearsal, he heard from a recently arrived lobster that Sam had also passed away. "But he's not here!" Fred cried, and then realized...uh oh...Sam must be there.

The music director saw that Fred was upset, and took him aside. "You know, I can talk to the Big Guy for you, and maybe you can go down there for a little while and say hi to your friend." He was true to his word, and the next day, Fred was allowed to visit Sam, with only one stipulation: He had to be back in heaven by midnight, or he'd have to stay down there forever.

Down Fred went! He had no problem finding Sam--he was running a popular disco. Sam laughed and embraced his old friend, and the two talked about old times and caught up. Sam gave Fred a tour of the club; Fred played a harp solo for Sam that he'd been working on. They were having such a nice visit that Fred lost track of time, and all of a sudden he realized it was 11:55. "Yikes!" He yelped, "I have to go!" He bid a quick farewell to his old friend and made a dash back up to heaven.

"So how was it?" The musical director asked Fred the next day.

"It was great," Fred said mournfully, "but...I left my harp in Sam Clam's disco!"

BWAH HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!

Heading to San Francisco on Tuesday for some book store and school visits!

This picture doesn't have much to do with the rest of the Miami Book Fair, but it was an awesome sandwich.

One of my biggest fears about coming down to the Miami Book Fair was that I'd make no friends. Mark told me not to worry--I'm a relatively social person, I'd make friends, it would be fine. But I had visions of myself alone in my room crying over my dinner of Nutrigrain bars on a Friday night while all the other authors whooped it up without me.

If there's one thing that I've learned from this trip, it's this: If you're a cartoonist, you'll never walk alone. (Bear with me, it's early in the morning and I'm not working with a whole lot of sleep: my describy powers might be compromised.)

HOW TO FIND OTHER CARTOONISTS AT A BOOK FAIR
by Amy Ignatow, Cartoonist

1. Go to the hospitality suite. There you will find at least three other cartoonists at all times. This is because cartoonists cannot resist the lure of free food. "BAGELS FOR US!!!" We joyfully exclaim every morning, wide-eyed and gleeful over by the fact that we don't have to pay for our breakfasts.

2. Go to the cartoonist panels. Here you will not only see cartoonists at tables talking about their craft, but also cartoonists in the audience bobbing their heads up and down. Yes, it's true, we nod excitedly to ourselves, we do visualize the image at the same time that we're coming up with the text!

3. Go to the back of the shuttle bus taking authors to an event. The cartoonists will be easy to spot, as we'll all be dressed in jeans and no one will be seated properly (everyone twisted around to face each other instead of looking straight ahead).

Once you find your cartoonists, you'll always be in good company. Cartoonists are the best.

I wish I had taken more pictures of all the amazing people that I met, but my camera was running out of juice and did I bring the battery charger? Of course not. But here's what I got.

With some of the great readers at Kelsey Pharr Elementary School on Thursday.

The street fair part of the Miami Book Fair. Imagine blocks and blocks of this. It was amazing.

One of my for sale at Books & Books tent.

What does it look like to be a panelist? This was what I saw when I was on the Women Making Comics panel with , , and (moderated by Kat Kan).

With , , , and Kat Kan after dinner on Thursday in South Beach.

, , and signing their books after our panel on Saturday (with John Shableski just stone cold hanging out and being all awesome)

The Miami People Mover. There isn't much public transportation in Miami, but what they do have is pretty cool and free. I mostly took this picture because the dog was cute.

Evening view from the people mover.

Time to pack a bunch of little bottles of shampoo and conditioner into my rolly bag and head north to chilly Philly. I've had a great time and I've met fascinating and wonderful people, but there's a great husband, a warm cat, and a sorely neglected drafting table in Philadelphia waiting for me to come home.

Uhmahgawduhmahgawduhmahgawd.
After an excellent flight down (the plane was only about a third full, leaving all of the gleeful passengers with a full row to themselves) and a mildly harrowing ride to the airport in a van that smelled like smoke and air-freshener, I arrived at the Hyatt Regency in downtown Miami.

I checked into the room, took a moment to marvel at the mountain of decorative pillows on the bed, and promptly ripped open my luggage to frantically search for the individually wrapped stick of cheese and the squashed Nutri-grain bar I'd bought at the Wawa back in Philly. Note to future self--when you get to a hotel at 10 at night and you have to be up early in the morning, you're not going to run around looking for a restaurant. Have something a little more substantial on hand than an individually wrapped stick of cheese and the squashed Nutri-grain bar.

No matter. I found the bed under Mt. Pillow, turned on the teevee, and promptly fell asleep.

In the morning I headed up to the hospitality suite. It's like author central, where tired, confused authors from all over the world come to eat bagels and be handed off to volunteers who take care of us for the day. Being an author is kind of like being a kid traveling alone in an airport--there are people whose jobs it is to make sure that you don't get lost/miss your flight/climb into a storage bin to take a nap. I was introduced to my handler for the day, Bill, who whisked me off to my first school.

As we walked into the school, the warm Miami temperatures started playing tricks with my mind. There aren't going to be any kids at this school, I thought, because it's summer. But I was happily wrong and I had a great time with the kids at Bowman Foster Ashe Elementary (and about half of them had already read The Popularity Papers!) After the program the principal of the school gave me my very own orange Bowman Foster Ashe school uniform polo shirt (should I ever want to matriculate).

Eliseo Hernandez, the school's principal, introduces me to the kids. As you might be able to tell from the photo, the heat here has begun to transform my hair into an exciting ball of frizz.

Bill and I had a little time to kill before heading off to our next school, so he drove me through some of the neighborhoods of Miami; Coral Gables, Coconut Grove, Little Havana. I saw the hotel where Bill Clinton stays when he comes to Florida to play golf and the old building where Cuban immigrants used to come to be processed. I took photos of nothing because that's Mark's job and d'oh! Okay, I need remember to take more photographs. For now I'll just post a picture of the house from The Golden Girls.

I keep looking around for Betty White. So far, no luck, but I've only been here for a day.

Then we were off to Auburndale Elementary. Now I'm getting used to doing school events--it's a little like when I was a substitute teacher. I'm new, nobody knows me, the best I can hope for is to make a good impression.

But not at Auburndale. At Auburndale, they knew who I was.

Liliana Salazar, principal at Auburndale. "You have no idea what you're getting into," she told me as she walked me down the Popularity Papers-decorated hallway to the school library. "They all love the book. You have no idea." She was totally right.

The PTA had bought all of the kids copies of my book. I want to hug the PTA of Auburndale Elementary School.

This was the first time that I'd been at a school where all of the kids had read the book, which was astonishing because it was the first time that I didn't have to explain the premise of the book. They all came prepared with questions written on index cards. Oh, and AND THEY ALL OPTED TO WEAR DRESSES AND SUITS WITH LITTLE KID NECKTIES FOR THE OCCASION.

Look at these kids!!! I felt kind of like a schlub in my jeans.

After we finished the program there was a little luncheon and they gave me flowers. They are now sitting in an ice bucket full of water in my hotel room.

But one of the most amazing parts of the visit was the job that the staff and the kids did in decorating the school for my arrival--

Would you like to see some details?

Awesome. I love this so much it's REDONK. But wait...

AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!! IT'S THE PHOTO OF TILDA THAT I TOOK THE JUST THE DAY BEFORE!!! Modern technology met Google and ingenuity and scissors and paste and COMPLETELY BLEW MY MIND!!!!!

Bill, my super awesome guide for the day, asked how I felt as we walked out of the school (with students still waving at me). I honestly had no idea how to feel. One of the most emotional days I ever had in my career was the day I was offered a book deal. One of the most exciting days I ever had in my career was the day I first saw my book in a bookstore. But this was the first time I'd ever been with a large group of kids in formalwear who had all read and loved the book. I feel a tremendous gratitude to the Miami Book Fair for bringing me down here, for the faculties at both schools for welcoming me and introducing my book to their students, and and and...

What can I even say? Last night when I got back to the hotel (after an excellent evening with Ruthie and Jeff, Mark's aunt and uncle) I called Mark to tell him about the day, and all that came out was, "LITTLE NECKTIES...DECORATIONS...FLOWERS...I MISS TILDA!"

Two more schools today! I will try to take more pictures.

I know I haven't posted in a while, but that's because this is primarily a tour blog and I haven't been anywhere. No, excepting two fun mini-excursions to bookstores in northern New Jersey ( and in Maplewood) I've been bound to my studio, just writing and drawing and sharpening pencils and gluing stuff.

But it's time once again to pack up my bag and hit the road! The road to the airport. Today I head down to Florida to the Miami Book Fair, where I'll be doing some school visits and presenting on some panels.

REASONS I AM EXCITED TO GO TO THE MIAMI BOOK FAIR

1. I'm Going on a Business Trip. Okay, so I know it might not be a big deal to some people, but being put on an airplane and staying at a hotel that I didn't have to book is CRAZY AWESOME. I hope someone at the airport asks me, "Why are you going to Miami?" I will respond, "Oh, business," like it's something that I do all of the time, and then the person will say, "Business trip to Miami in November? Not bad!" and then we will throw back our heads and chuckle, even though it's not particularly funny, because that's what people who travel on business with little rolly suitcases do.

2. I Get to Hang Out With Authors! Hanging out with authors is pretty fun. With the exception of the friendly and talented , I don't think I've met any of the other authors who are going to be at the fair, so I'm excited to meet new people and make new author friends.

3. Miami in November Sounds Nice. I am going to get a tan! I plan to accomplish this by standing outside for about twenty minutes.

4. I Need to Get Out of My Studio. Ever since we came back from our big trip, I've been working crazy hard on my next project. Although I'm really happy with what I've accomplished, I've pretty much been living in my pajamas and if I don't get out and socialize soon I'm going to become That Crazy Lady on the block that kids whisper about when they walk past the house. She never comes out! I hear she eats children! See her through the window, wearing her witch's robes? It's just a bathrobe, okay! Yeah, I need to get out.


REASONS I AM NERVOUS ABOUT GOING TO THE MIAMI BOOK FAIR

1. Since meeting Mark, I've never traveled without him for longer than two days. It seems ridiculous to be nervous about this, because I used to be this really awesome World Traveler type.

1997, Israel. On top of Masada. The blond girl is my friend Shoshanah, who I am still friends with today. And not just Facebook friends, either.

1997, Israel

1998, Scotland. With my high school friends Kit and Sarah, who I am also still friends with today.

2000, Greece. This is with one of my best friends, Kim. I have no idea why we're standing like superheroes.

2000, Greece

2000, Greece. I am very good at picking up new languages.

2001, India.

2001, India. That terrifying scruffy man is my dad.

2004, Turkey. My brother took this picture, which is why it looks like a minaret is growing out of my head.

2004, Turkey. We look like we're hugging, but I'm actually trying to throw my brother off the edge of a cliff for making me look like a minaret-head.

So six days without my husband shouldn't be that bad. But I've become accustomed to him taking care of the things that I'm not so good at, like

2. I have no sense of direction. This, in and of itself, is not a terrible thing; the problem is that not only do I lack a sense of direction, I lack the sense to figure out where I need to go before I start moving. This has been pointed out to me a lot by many different people. I will be in an unfamiliar place and I will just take off in any direction. The bus stops, I get out, and I start walking with little to no idea as to where I'm headed. Despite all of the mocking I've endured ("Umm...Amy, where exactly are you going?") I can't seem to change this weird behavior.

3. What if the Other Authors are Mean to Me? Going to this fair feels like going to overnight summer camp for the first time. I don't know what to expect and I don't know anyone there. What if everyone there is already friends with each other, and they have private jokes with each other that I don't understand? What if I say, "Hey anyone want to grab a bite to eat?" and they all look at each other and say, "Umm, jeez, sorry, I already ate, yeah, maybe next time, bye!" and run away, leaving me to eat every meal alone in my hotel room? What if mid-grade novelists are the lowest rung on the Miami Book Fair social ladder? What if Salman Rushdie and Dave Eggers gang up on me?

4. I'VE NEVER BEEN ON A PANEL BEFORE. I am most anxious about this. First, I'm not entirely sure what I'm supposed to prepare. Second, when I get nervous I tend to get silly. I also get silly when I'm not nervous. I AM A SILLY PERSON AND SILLY PEOPLE SHOULD NOT BE ON SERIOUS PANELS. Also, I've never even witnessed a panel I'm going to barf myself with fear.

THINGS I HAVE TO DO BEFORE I LEAVE FOR THE MIAMI BOOK FAIR

1. Buy a little rolly suitcase.

2. Pack things into the little rolly suitcase that I have not yet bought.

3. Prepare slide shows for the panels. Of what, I don't really know.

4. Publish this blogpost...

For those of you who don't know, yesterday was my birthday! Some people are really nonchalant about their birthdays--if people mention it, great, if not, no big deal. Others dread the day, seeing it only as a depressing reminder of their mortality. Me, I run around for weeks in advance telling everyone that it's my birthday and then I get hyper-excited when anyone wishes me a happy birthday.

Me: I need to set up an appointment, my laptop won't close properly. Also, it's my birthday.

Apple ...

Children's book authors are totally weird and I am proud to be one.

I'm not one to put much stock into astrological signs (can everyone born in late August and most of September be doggedly loyal and hyper-organized? How is that possible?) but I do believe that I possess many qualities that gel with the stereotype of a Virgo--I like to be organized and prepared and on time.

So wait, you say, Amy, you're a Virgo? Did we miss your birthday? Actually no, it's WEDNESDAY. MY BIRTHDAY IS WEDNESDAY. T...

It's always nice to come home to find that the cat hasn't gruesomely murdered the housesitter. As I write this, Tilda the Much Maligned is on me like white on rice, and has been for the past twelve hours. She seems extremely happy to have us home, which will last right about until I wrestle her down and clip her claws. Then she'll just be extremely happy to have Mark home.

Here are some numbers for The Popularity Papers Goes Midwest Tour:

4,728 miles
14 states
11 hotels
9 visits with friends
10 ...