- Grilled pimento cheese with red onion and tomato sandwiches.
- Crying on airplanes.
- Watching Buster Keaton’s The General with J Dilla’s Donuts as the soundtrack.
- Writing on balancing motherhood and art. Sally Mann’s Hold Still. Sarah Ruhl’s 100 Essays I Don’t Have Time To Write. Jenny Offill’s Dept. of Speculation. Maggie Nelson’s The Argonauts. Elena Ferrante. Writer Maureen McHugh on how she’s probably changed more lives being a mom and a teacher.
- Debbie Chachra’s “Why I Am Not A Maker.”
- Thinking about the relationship between artist and audience. What, if anything, we owe each other. Coltrane on what you give to the listener. Wendell Berry’s “Warning To My Readers.”
- Jez Burrows’ Dictionary Stories.
- David Lee Roth’s Crazy From The Heat.
- Thinking about long-term creativity. Roger Angell on what it’s like to be 93-years-old. Women artists in their 70s, 80s, and 90s. David Hockney on making art at 77.
- Using Twitter’s “People You Follow” search to learn about new things.
- Spending more time on a private Slack channel than any other social media site.
- The crazy story of how I became friends with world-class violinist Vijay Gupta.
- Good music. The Velvet Underground, Matrix Tapes. Kraftwerk, Computer World. Captain Beefheart. Elvis Costello, Trust. Royal Headache, High. Sleater-Kinney, No Cities To Love. Sly and the Family Stone, There’s A Riot Goin’ On. Van Morrison, Veedon Fleece. Kurt Vile, b’lieve I’m goin down. Mac Demarco, Another One. King Sunny Ade. Fuzz, II. Madlib, Shades of Blue. Yo La Tengo, Stuff Like That There. Gary Numan, The Pleasure Principle. Wilco’s The Whole Love. Pandora jazz stations.
- Getting into classical. Listening to Beethoven with my son. Mitsuko Uchida playing Mozart’s piano sonatas.
- Singing my son’s favorite songs: Little Anthony’s “Shimmy Shimmy Ko Ko Bop,” Jonathan Richman’s “The Wheels on the Bus,” James Brown’s “Hot Pants,” and Buck Owen’s “Tiger By The Tail.”
- John McPhee’s essays on writing.
- Looking at the world through the eyes of my son. Looking at kid’s drawings. Looking at drawings that look like kid’s drawings.
- Finding a newspaper clipping from a friend who passed away.
- Emily Dickinson.
- Knowing I don’t deserve it and keeping on. Giving thanks. Writing down prayers. Drawing prayers.
- Morning mind maps.
- Seeing Kehinde Wiley’s show in Fort Worth.
- Dumb Amazon reviews.
- Nutty medieval paintings.
- Brian Eno’s concept of “Import and Export” and starting from unpromising beginnings.
- Meeting Edward Tufte.
- Going on a two-week vacation to Rhode Island. Reading in the hammock. Stones from Moonstone Beach. Walking trails. Outdoor showers. Newport. Walking around Providence. RISD with Ben Shaykin. A rainbow over the Dunkin’ Donuts. Monahan’s and Matunuck Oyster Bar. Rhubarb pies from the farmer’s stand. Fire pit smores.
- Seeing boredom as a luxury.
- Coming home and putting a new spin on old work with the newspaper popouts.
- Glitch rugs, quilts, and embroideries of microbes.
- Peppermint tea.
- T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets.
- That hour or two with my wife after the kids go to bed.
- Bourbon.
- Putting out The Steal Like An Artist Journal. Going on tour and perfecting the talk. Having such good fans that we had a great turnout at every event.
- Watching my work go out in the world. Seeing how people are using their journals. Heather Champ’s 30-day journal marathon. This photo.
- Saying “it wasn’t for me” and moving on. Knowing there are several potential reactions to art.
- Being a tourist in my own town.
- Practicing cursive. Jennifer Daniels on why Microsoft Word sucks. Hallie Bateman’s handwritten Pen Parade newsletter. Knowing when you should write with a pencil and when you should use a keyboard.
- Clive Thompson on reading War and Peace on his iPhone.
- Looking for the helpers.
- Sophia Lauren making pizza.
- Posters by the Stenberg Brothers.
- Watching Road Runner cartoons, Robin Hood, and Singin’ In The Rain with my sons.
- Warren Ellis’s story about Nina Simone wanting “some champagne, some cocaine, and some sausages!”
- Walking three and a half miles with a double stroller every morning.
- Going to the library with the boys. Reading James Marshall’s George and Martha, Souther Salazar’s Destined for Dizziness!, Blexbolex’s, Ballad, and Richard Scarry’s What Do People Do All Day?
- Doing mundane suburban stuff with my wife and the kids, like walking the mall and having lunch at the Nordstrom’s cafe, feeding the ducks at the pond, fiddling with instruments at Guitar Center, scoping the view from the top of a parking garage, eating hot dogs at Costco, etc.
- Playing a guitar with four strings. (Who needs more strings than fingers?)
- Rainbow makers.
- TSA pre-check.
- Redesigning my website so I don’t have to think about it for a few more years.
- Getting an original Wayne White painting for my birthday. (Related: having an amazing wife.)
- James Sturm’s Market Day.
- David Markson’s “anti-novels.”
- Watching Spongebob Squarepants and reading Carl Hiassen in Florida. Seeing Salvador Dali’s pixelated painting of Abe Lincoln at the Dali Museum.
- My son sharing my obsession with signs. Recycled signs. Hacked signs. Signs of danger. Borrowing life advice from an old Spaghetti Warehouse sign.
- Getting up in the middle of the night to see the blood moon over Gdansk, Poland. Looking at the moon. My son telling me it’s following us. Pluto! Getting binoculars for Christmas.
- Speaking at LucasFilm and seeing the Marin headlands.
- New York City. Walking the Highline at sunset. Running into Kelli and Frank at the Whitney. Walking the Hudson at sunrise. Neue Gallery with Maria K. Brooklyn bagels. Paulie Gee’s pizza.
- Good television. Broad City. Fargo. Louie. Justified. The Americans. South Park.
- Having people make you a list. Adam Koford’s list of favorite old movies. Making a soul playlist for my friend Mike.
- People getting fed up with authenticity nonsense and artisanal crap. The Search For General Tso.
- Jon Ronson’s So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed.
- Accepting that a life in the arts is like Groundhog Day and that “tomorrow is another day, another chance to work and play.” Accepting the dailiness of it all. Getting up on The One. Edward Tufte on how to have better mornings. Tim Gunn’s Sunday routine. David Letterman’s paper cups. Azealia Banks’ 3 a.m. routine. Forgetting the noun and doing the verb.
- David Allen’s Getting Things Done. Buying a filing cabinet and practicing inbox triage.
- Not worrying too much about productivity. Christoph Niemann on the importance of inefficiency. Agatha Christie on having messy notebooks.
- Trying to be a teacher while remaining a student. Re-thinking art education. Sister Corita Kent. Paul Thek’s Teaching Notes. John Waters’ RISD commencement address. Robert De Niro on being screwed. Draw It With Your Eyes Closed: The Art of The Art Assignment. Re-mystifying art. Wendy MacNaughton on Periscope. Teaching blackout poetry workshops to high schoolers.
- Being real about money and fighting the “do what you love” crowd. How Deerhoof makes a living on the road. Having 90,000 Instagram fans and still serving brunch.
- Looking at art. The woodcuts and paintings of Felix Vallotton. The work of Margaret Kilgallen. The work of Hedda Sterne. Jim Darling’s airplane window drawings. Penelope Umbrico’s Flickr suns. Paul Thek’s 96 Sacraments, butterflies, and notebooks. Georgia O’Keeffe’s watercolors. Paintings by Souther Salazar. Paintings by Matt Forsythe. Animated GIFs by Lille Carre. Paintings by Shane Walsh. Flying saucer paintings by Esther Pearl Watson. The illustrations of J. Otto Seibold. Paul Klee’s arrows. Drawings by Andy Warhol. Watching Saul Steinberg and Tove Jansson draw. @rabihalameddine’s Twitter feed.
- Texting my wife when we’re in the same room.
- Long phone calls with artist friends.
- Paper. The work of Kelli Anderson. Gay Talese’s love of collage. Articles with headliness like “Don’t write off paper just yet” or “Paper notebooks are as relevant as ever.” Nick Bilton on seeing the value of print books after his mother’s death. Merlin Mann on the problem with fancy notebooks. Neil Gaiman’s notebooks. Basquiat’s notebooks.
- Great writing about art. Dave Hickey’s lectures, Air Guitar, and Pirates and Farmers. Blake Gopnik on Corita Kent, Andy Warhol’s student work, and Andy Goldsworthy’s throwing sticks.
- Oliver Jeffers’ dipped paintings.
- Grimes’ demo for “Realti.”
- Music stories. Synth Britannia. John Seabrook’s The Song Machine: Inside the Hit Factory. How the Eurythmics recorded “Sweet Dreams.” How two white synth geeks helped Stevie Wonder make his best records. The producer who got Ace of Base’s demo stuck in his tape deck. Elvis singing to an actual hound dog.
- Learning how to be a better parent. Andrew Solomon’s, Far From the Tree. The best parenting advice: “Don’t Kill Them.” Thinking about toys for children. Raul Gutierrez on the best kinds of toys.
- The power of a simple kitchen timer.
- Sharpening pencils and sniffing them.
- Buying a house. Never spending another second on Zillow. Courtney Barnett’s “Depreston.”
- Animals attacking drones.
- Ron Swanson on creativity. Kimmy Schmidt on following your bliss. Crazy Eyes on her writing process. Marty McFly on creative frustration. Dana Scully on genius.
- Oliver Sacks on a motorcycle.
- The inside cover of ZZ Top’s Tres Hombres.
- Unpretentious restaurants. Maudie’s. Mi Madre’s. Tam Deli. Little Deli. S&H Donuts.
- Detroit-style pizza from Via313.
- Record shopping as therapy.
- Los Angeles. The Last Bookstore. Echo Park with Vijay. LACMA with Adam. Mexican with Mike and Erika and the gang. Taking the train to Pasadena. Seeing the Martian at the ArcLight with Jamie.
- Tove Jansson. Moomin comics. Being Moominpapa.
- Patrice O’Neal, Elephant in the Room.
- Watching movies. Mad Max: Fury Road. Creed. Only Lovers Left Alive. Don Hertzfeld’s World of Tomorrow. Sullivan’s Travels. John Wick. Magic Mike XXL. Das Boot. Far From The Madding Crowd.
- Re-reading books like Slaughterhouse-Five.
- Re-watching movies. No Country For Old Men. Road House. Best In Show. Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Jurassic Park. Moonrise Kingdom. Zoolander. Moonstruck.
- Doing it yourself.
- Figuring out how to stay alive.
- Turning the ship around.
- Hot fudge sundaes with nuts and whipped cream.
- The birth of my son Jules.
- Taking a nap.
Search Results for: walking
100 things that made my year (2014)
In no particular order:
- Reading a book instead of looking at my phone.
- Not finishing books I didn’t like.
- Going for a three-mile walk every morning with my wife and son.
- Fela Kuti.
- Holding office hours instead of answering every email. (Most questions can be boiled down.) (Don’t ask.)
- The opposite of schadenfreude.
- Joan Didion on self-respect.
- Wendell Berry on divorce and putting things back together again.
- Discovering P.G. Wodehouse. Snorting and snickering and laughing out loud through Right Ho, Jeeves.
- Losing 25 pounds on VB6 and Isa Does It.
- Reading old horror novels, like Dracula and Frankenstein.
- Going to the local comic book shop to buy Saga.
- Getting huge comic book series from the library. Y: The Last Man. The Sandman.
- Signing books at BookPeople.
- Interviewing Joshua Wolf Shenk about his book, Powers of Two. Thinking about creative duos and unsung partners.
- Watching massive amounts of TV with my wife after putting the kid to bed. The Americans. Justified. Transparent. The Good Wife. Bob’s Burgers. Going Deep With David Rees. Sherlock. Game of Thrones. True Detective. Nashville. Mad Men. Masters of Sex. Hannibal. An Idiot Abroad.
- Paul Zollo’s Songwriters on Songwriting.
- Please Kill Me: The Uncensored History of Punk.
- Steve Albini on releasing art like a bird or a fart.
- Carl Wilson’s Let’s Talk About Love.
- Antonio Sanchez’s drum kit soundtrack to Birdman.
- Learning how to make an awesome paper airplane.
- Flying to San Francisco in the morning to see David Hockney’s show at the De Young and then flying home that night.
- Steal Like An Artist on ESPN. (And in the funny pages.)
- Seeing Magritte shows in three cities: at the MoMA in NYC, at the Menil in Houston, and at the Magritte museum in Brussels.
- Thee Oh Sees’ “Encrypted Bounce”
- Sasha Frere-Jones’ Perfect Recordings.
- Questlove’s Mo’ Meta Blues.
- D’Angelo’s Black Messiah.
- Old masters. Documentaries about senior citizen artists.
- Funny people talking. Joan Rivers. Harold Ramis. Bill Murray. Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee. Louie. All those great Chris Rock interviews.
- Visiting the Sackners and touring their archive in Miami, Florida
- Meeting heroes. Brunch with Oliver Jeffers. Asking Ralph Steadman a question over Skype. Interviewing Stephin Merritt. Signing books with Chip Kidd. (Also: Emailing with heroes.)
- Meditating. Remembering to breathe. Trying to stay in the present.
- Not going into debt for art school. Getting out of debt completely.
- Once a day, giving yourself a present.
- Writing by hand. The handwriting of Julia Warhol and Henri Cole. How the French teach handwriting.
- Picasso drawing on vacation. Picasso drawing a chicken.
- Reading fiction as a guidebook.
- Finally learning about names you’ve heard before: Sister Corita Kent. John Cage.
- Big Boi jamming to Kate Bush. Debbie Harry cooking. Jonathan Richman dancing. Cy Twombly and his wife. Ronnie Spector.
- Giving people the hits so you can do what you want.
- Playing Andrew Bird’s Pulaski At Night for my son almost every day. Pablo Casals playing the Bach Cello Suites.
- Collages. Looking at them, making them. Jess. Deteriorating subway ads.
- Seeing how they did it, and seeing how they do it. Wayne White on Instagram. Tony Fitzpatrick on Instagram. The Song Exploder podcast. Chilly Gonzales at the piano. Lynda Barry‘s classroom tumblr and her book, Syllabus.
- Embracing selfies. Vintage selfies. Robot selfies. Vivian Maier selfies.
- Sunday sketches by Christoph Niemann. Wishing I drew more while looking at drawings by Warren Craghead, Wendy MacNaughton, Hans Hofmann, Roger Ebert, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ohara Hale, Darwin’s Children, etc.
- Cool instagram photos of my books. A horse sniffing my book. My books at the Matisse show I really wanted to go to.
- Jamaican Gold on KOOP every Sunday 12-2. Lee Perry in the recording studio. The Congos’ Heart of the Congos.
- Bob Mankoff’s How About Never — Is Never Good For You? Visiting him at the New Yorker. (Wondering if all cartoonists are crazy and laughing every time I see this cartoon.)
- Roz Chast’s Can’t We Talk About Something More Pleasant?
- One-star reviews that are actually kind of great.
- Watching Twitter turn to a river of slime. Wondering what Bill Hicks would think. Choosing what to be angry about.
- Working in the garage. Sorting out mise en place. Adding a third desk, dedicated to reading. Installing a 10,000 BTU air conditioner.
- Collecting interesting book dedications.
- Looking at pictures of writers writing instead of writing.
- Short books. Denis Johnson’s Train Dreams.
- Reading about depression. Feeling like the clown who went to therapy. Doing something with your depression. Not romanticizing dying young. Learning as an antidote to sadness. Snapping out of it.
- Thinking about photography. Instagram. Contact sheets. Vivian Maier’s rolls of film. Taking photos in video games. (And why does anyone care if you take a picture of the sunset?)
- Books I wrote that I can’t read.
- Re-reading books. Silence of the Lambs. A Christmas Carol. American Elf.
- Re-watching movies. Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan. Wayne’s World. Moonstruck. Withnail & I. Blade Runner: The Final Cut. Jaws. Bad Santa. Before Sunset.
- Ander Monson’s frame-by-frames of Predator. John Martz’s NxNW x Big Lebowski mashup.
- Not wanting to be famous. Not doing it for the money.
- Writing newsletters and reading newsletters. The Writer’s Almanac. Matt Thomas’s Sunday Times Digest. Maureen McHugh. Ryan Holiday. Dave Gray. Ann Friedman.
- The price of getting what you wanted.
- Watching old television performances on YouTube. James Brown on the T.A.M.I. Show. Jimi Hendrix on the Lulu show. Dire Straits on Old Grey Whistle Test.
- Boyhood. Richard Linklater.
- Kindness. The history of Otis Redding’s “Try A Little Tenderness.”
- Reading old Paris Review interviews. Adam Phillips. Mark Strand. Fran Lebowitz. Maya Angelou. Kay Ryan. Etc.
- Good novels. Ken Grimwood’s Replay. John Williams’ Stoner. Crying on two separate flights while reading John Green’s The Fault In Our Stars.
- Thinking about book design. Experimental paperbacks. Bucky Fuller’s I Seem To Be A Verb. Richard McGuire’s Here. Peter Mendelsund’s What We See When We Read. Book covers by Edward Gorey. The work of Alvin Lustig.
- Don Henley misunderstanding most of modern art history.
- Cigarette pencils.
- Keeping a notebook on book tour. Recommending books by other people on book tour. Meeting up with friends on book tour. Coming home from book tour.
- Erik Satie.
- Card games.
- Waylon Jennings’ “Rainy Day Woman.” Dolly Parton slowed down and sped up.
- The NYTimes finally doing blackout poetry.
- Future Islands on Letterman.
- Mac Demarco’s Salad Days.
- St. Vincent.
- Looking up a word in a paper dictionary.
- Wearing a uniform.
- Pushing back against “do what you love.” Loving what you do.
- How-tos. How to graciously say no to anyone. How to be polite. How not to write a novel. How to support an artist you love. How to open a story. How to drink champagne.
- Seeing your work have actual ripple effects. (Ex. Really liking Adam Sternbergh’s Shovel Ready then learning that Steal had an influence on him.)
- Thinking about the phrase “DNA and daily life.” (From A General Theory of Love.)
- Using my passport again. Brazil. Belgium.
- Making new stuff for my website instead of redesigning my website.
- Replacing the cartridge on the turntable. Bobby Womack. Curtis Mayfield, Live!
- Taking off all your clothes and lying down for a nap.
- Walking barefoot on new hardwood floors.
- Eating breakfast for dinner. Playing ‘Round About Midnight really early in the morning. Having sex at two o’clock in the afternoon.
- John Coltrane’s “My Favorite Things.” Bill Evans. Ahmad Jamal. Vince Guaraldi. Kind of Blue. Louie Armstrong. Duke Ellington. Benny Goodman. Sonny Rollins.
- Dad superpowers, like the ability to take a nap at any time in any place. (Scars on my knees from heroically scraping them onto the pavement while saving my son from certain death, etc.)
- Wilco’s “Impossible Germany.” Tweedy’s “Low Key.”
- Establishing a routine. Sticking to the routine. Losing the routine.
- Playing the piano.
- Feeling the baby kick.
Show Your Work! Tour Diary #5: Kansas City and St. Louis
I’m on book tour promoting Show Your Work! See all upcoming dates or follow me Twitter or Instagram for daily updates.
10 Things I Learned On Book Tour
A few things I thought a lot about while on the road touring behind Steal Like An Artist:
1. You are a traveling salesman.
Look, if you’re lucky enough to have a publisher that sends you on book tour, they’re sending you out there to do one thing: sell books.
A lot of writers don’t like to think of the commerce side of what they do, and to them I say: look at the back cover of your book. See that fucking barcode? That’s a product. Products need to be sold.
You may not want to be in sales, but the quicker you can embrace the role, the more comfortable you’ll be, and the better you’ll get at it.
Unless you wrote a shitty book, you have something every salesman dreams of: a product you believe in. Don’t be shy. Sell the thing.
Here are some things you should be doing:
- Work on your public speaking skills. Learn how to get comfortable talking in front of a group of people. Rehearse your material. Don’t go over time. Talk slower than you think you need to. Check your teeth, tie, and fly. Remember when people come to one of your events that they could be doing ANYTHING else, but they came to see you. Don’t treat that lightly. Make sure you give them a good show. Help them get something out of it.
- Carry a copy of your book with you everywhere. You don’t need a briefcase full of them, just carry one clean copy of the book on you at all times. (My agent says carry at least two, but he’s a backbreaker.) If somebody asks you about your book or what you do and you have a weirdo book like mine, it is so much easier to just hand them a copy and say, “Here it is.” And if you run into one of your heroes or someone who should have a copy, you can just give it to them. Then replace it with a new copy from your suitcase.
- Carry a business card. Yes, business cards seem silly in this digital age, but at the very least, it comes in handy during face-to-face transactions. Somebody asking you about something you don’t want to talk about? Hand ’em a card and say, “Shoot me an email.” Done.
- Get a credit card reader from Square. Instant storefront! Quick story: I was giving a talk at a conference at 4:30 p.m. and the college bookstore was closing up before the end of my talk. I knew people would want to buy books after the talk, so the bookstore said they’d sell me a bunch of copies at cost. (50% off.) So I bought a big stack, and when walked onstage for my talk, I held up the bookstore shopping bags and said, “You want to know what it’s like to be a working author? I’m selling my own books out front after this talk.” Got a good laugh, and I made $100 profit.
- Collect emails at all your signings. I really dropped the ball on this one. Half the time I remembered to put a sign-up sheet for my mailing list on the table, half the time I forgot. Don’t skip it.
2. Invest in good gear.
Carry-on: You can’t check bags when you’re on tour, because if you lose them, you are utterly and totally screwed. My wife got me one of these hybrid carry-on/garment bags for about $70, and it worked really well for me. I put my suit and good shirts in the garment bag half and everything else in the other half. It’s got a hard shell back, so it’s pretty durable, and I never had any trouble stuffing it in an overhead. (Don’t be one of those idiots with an oversized carry-on that never fits.)
Day bag: A day bag is a bag you carry with you everywhere. (You know, a man purse.) I decided on this tour to leave my laptop at home and travel only with an iPad, so I went with this TimBuk2 Freestyle Messenger bag. It’s pretty tiny, but it has tons of pockets, so I can fit all the essentials and I stay lightweight.
Here’s what was in it:
- iPad 2 w/ charge cable, camera connection kit, and VGA adapter. There were a few times where I wished I had a Macbook Air on me, but overall, the iPad worked great for travel and presentations. Trouble happens when a venue wants you to use their computer — just be sure to tell them ahead of time you need a VGA input. Sometimes the projector is far away from where you’re standing, but if you have an iPhone, you can get the Keynote Remote app and control the slideshow over Bluetooth.
- Sketchbook. (See pages my tour sketchbook.)
- Kindle Touch 3G.
- Copy of Steal.
- Small paperback. For takeoffs and landings when you have to power down your Kindle.
- Shure SE215-K Live Sound Monitors. Fancy ear buds, because I hate having to carry around noise-cancelling headphones.
- Bandanna. For snot, sweat, tying stuff together, and other various purposes.
- Flash drive. Had my standard slides on it, in case a venue (usually a conference) needed to use their own computer.
- Safety scissors and tape. Believe it or not, the TSA allows scissors up to 4 inches.
- Pens and Sharpies. Black for signing Blackout, red for signing Steal, Marks-A-Lot for making blackouts, Pilot G-2 Bold for writing.
- Cosmonaut iPad stylus. I love this thing. Like drawing with a huge crayon.
- Rathole $20 and quarters. Because you never know.
- Earplugs. For on the plane and getting to sleep in noisy hotels. Don’t leave home without them.
- Vitamins, Advil, and lip balm.
- USB rechargeable battery. The size of a pack of gum, and it’ll recharge anything USB.
- Chewing gum.
- Square credit card reader. (See above.)
3. Wear a uniform.
Travel is a lot easier when you only pack things that match and can be combined, and life on the road is way easier when you wear a uniform. Pick a uniform for your events and pick a uniform for travel and walking around the city. I never did more than 4 cities in a week, so here’s what I brought with me:
- (1) navy blazer
- (4) blue non-iron dress shirts
- (2) pairs of blue jeans
- (2) ties
- (1) one grey hoodie sweatshirt
- (1) pair of grey Adidas Sambas
- (1) grey baseball cap
- a bunch of t-shirts, socks, and underwear
I was traveling in the spring, so not only did I pack the same thing for every week, I didn’t actually put anything away when I got home — I just threw the clothes in the wash, took my jacket to the dry cleaners, and repacked everything the same way I did the week before.
4. A little germaphobia goes a long way.
Let’s face it: an airplane is basically a flying petri dish.
I used to get sick almost every time I flew, so I was terrified of flying around half a dozen times a week for a couple of months. Then I came across Daniel Pink’s travel tips — they really saved my ass. Combining them with a little bit of my own research, I came up with a method that kept me from getting sick in over 20 cities in 2 months.
Here’s what you’ll need for my (somewhat insane) flying regimen:
- a water bottle
- hand sanitizer
- Emergen-C 1000mg Vitamin C packets
- Wet Ones antibacterial hand wipes
- Neosporin
Here’s how it goes:
Once I get through security with my (empty) water bottle, I find the nearest drinking fountain, then I dump a packet of Emergen-c in the bottle and fill it up with water.
In the bathroom before boarding, I sanitize my hands, then I coat the inside of my nostrils with Neosporin. This sounds disgusting. It is. I’ll let Dan Pink explain.
Once I get on the airplane:
- I drink a lot of water. Hydrate!
- I avoid the seat-back pocket at all costs. Those pockets are where germs go to have orgies. Do not, under any circumstances, stick your Kindle in there or browse Sky Mall. Do not do it.
- I open my air vent on full blast and aim it so the air passes just in front of my face. Airplanes have industrial air filters on them, so that air is actually cleaner than the air just sitting in the plane.
- I wipe down my tray table before using it. People eat and leave their tissues and do all sorts of disgusting things to those tables.
- I try not to touch anything. That includes other humans and other airplane surfaces.

5. Eat right, sleep a lot, and don’t drink too much.
Eat right: Best thing is to try not to eat at the airport. My favorite place on the road is Panera Bread. Their kid’s peanut butter and jelly and an apple serves any mealtime. If there was a Panera near my hotel, before I flew, I’d have them make me a couple of those and stuff them in my bag.
For emergencies, I always kept a bunch of trail mix and beef jerky in my carry-on for protein. If I was going to be in a city for a few days, I’d stop by a Whole Foods or a Trader Joe’s and buy a bag of apples.
If you need to find a good restaurant, use Yelp. When I use a little critical thinking (How many reviews? How old are they?) Yelp doesn’t let me down.
Sleep a lot: This one is tough. But basically, you need to keep your sleeping schedule as regular as possible. The way I did it was I tried to take as few naps as possible. I’d keep myself up all day, whether I was on a plane or walking around the city, and I’d make sure I was super tired when it was time to go to bed. I’d go to bed around 10 or 11 local time, no matter what time zone I was in.
Can’t get to sleep? Dan Pink recommends a Benadryl, ear plugs, and a copy of The Economist. Worked for me.
6. Let people know you’re coming.
If you want people to show up to your events, you can’t just expect the venue or the sponsor or the bookstore to bring them in. Get your ass on Twitter, Facebook, your mailing list, etc. and let people know you’re coming. I sent out big reminders about the tour to all my channels in the beginning, and then I reminded people on Twitter and Facebook the week of and the day before. I had a surprising number of people come up to me at signings and say, “I didn’t know you were in town and saw it on Twitter and came over.”
Also: tell your friends you’re coming! Ask them to breakfast or drinks. So many of my internet friends became IRL friends on this tour. That made everything so much more worth it.
7. Ask questions.
I got so incredibly sick of listening to myself talk when I was on tour. Every night, talking about me, me, me.
The antidote to the self-loathing that comes from talking about yourself constantly is listening. Turning the spotlight away from yourself and putting it on someone else. Richard Ford said, “When people realize they’re being listened to, they tell you things.”
When one of my escorts would pick me up from the airport, I’d ask them about their lives. “How long have you lived in Kansas City? How’d you get into escorting? Who’s the biggest asshole you’ve worked with?” I heard some amazing stories.
My wife is six months pregnant, so whenever I found out somebody was a parent, I’d ask them for parenting tips.
I always asked the security guy which line was moving faster.
I asked machines lots of questions, too. (If my normal rule is Google everything, my rule on the road is “Yelp everywhere.”)
8. When in doubt, go to an art museum.
Almost every major city has some sort of halfway decent art museum — I visited at least a dozen of them on this tour. When you’re doing night events, museums are usually open exactly when you need to kill some time: from 10 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. If you’re staying near downtown, the museum district is often pretty close by. They also usually have decent cafes for snacks.
9. Be a mensch.
(Stole this one from my agent, Ted.)
To borrow a sentence from Dan Savage, “Be good, giving, and game.”
Be good. You can’t say thank you enough. Thank everybody. Thank people for coming. Thank the book store for having you. Be pleasant. Smile. Don’t throw fits. Nobody gives a shit who you are or how tired you are. Be a human being.
Be giving. If somebody comes up and wants their book signed, shake their hand, ask their name, ask them what they’re up to. Spend a little time with them. Carry ones and tip well. Open doors for old ladies.
Be game. Be ready for anything. If the projector doesn’t work, grab a big pad of paper and draw your slides. Roll with it. If four people show up, go to the bar with them. (This happened.) If an escort knows a good BBQ joint that’s a little out of the way, skip the nap and see some of the city you’re visiting.
10. Treat home like another stop.
We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.
— T.S. Eliot, Four Quartets
When you get home, kiss your wife, hug your dog, and try to see the place as if for the first time.
Tour Sketchbook #2
Here are some sketchbook scans from the second half of the Steal Across America tour. Here’s what I wrote about my first tour sketchbook:
I use a large Moleskine sketchbook because it has heavy bristol-like pages that don’t tear, it’s big enough to stick a boarding pass in the pages, and it has an envelope flap in the back for travel receipts.
I’m on the move a lot, so I don’t have a lot of time to sketch while I’m walking around, but I do have time to collage when I’m back in the hotel room, so I’ve started carrying transparent tape, Japanese Washi tape that my wife gave me, and a pair of safety scissors (TSA says under 4 inches is okay).
Read more about the Steal Across America tour→
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