Slapdash Road Trip Book Tour, Days 9-10: Austin, TX –> New Orleans, LA

I’m combining these two days into one because, as it says in the Bible, thou shalt not blogeth on Sunday.

Saturday: Austin Teen Book Festival! A good time was had by all. The organizers–who were AWESOME–spruced up our green room with all sorts of cool crafty things made out of the pages of books, and even had cookies with our book covers on them.

Because the only thing better than a book is an edible book.

After an amazeballs keynote speech by Libba Bray that involved capes, light sabers, and a fog machine (I’m not even joking), we headed off into our separate panels. I had the pleasure of being a talking head alongside Sophie Jordan, Scott Speer, Anna Banks, Tara Hudson, and Martha Brockenbrough, and I think it’s safe to say we rocked it. Plus, Libba Bray’s leftover fog machine kept intermittently spewing clouds of smoke during our panel, which made us look like we were a forest fire that wouldn’t die.

Once the day was out, we did some book signing, and here’s where I do a quick shout-out to everyone who came to the festival, and an extra loud thank you to everyone who bought my books and swung by to say hi and get them signed. It was lovely to meet all of you!

Then all the authors got together for dinner and got drunk chatted politely. Good times, Austin. Good times.

Sunday: Involved a lot of driving, because as it turns out, Austin and New Orleans just aren’t all that close to each other. But before we entered the car that would be our prison for the next many hours, TEXAS WAFFLE:

Everything’s batter in Texas. HEY-O-! HEY. O.

So, driving. Driving. Driving. Stop for some fast food chicken, get enraged at the slowness of the fast food chicken, run across to the gas station to fill up while waiting for fast food chicken, get enraged at gas station for not giving receipts, finally get fast food chicken, really enjoy fast food chicken so all is forgiven, then more driving.

But as it turned out, the drive wasn’t really all that bad (tip of you hat to you, 75mph speed “limit”). We even got in with enough time to go into the city and check out the French Quarter.

Oh, here it is.

Once we’d waded through the scads of drunkards and middle-aged women trying to get beads from people on balconies by any means necessary (ugh, and I mean any means), we arrived at a sane-looking restaurant and got some really goddamn delicious food. Gumbo, crawfish etoufee, and a bread pudding that blew my mind right out the back of my head. 

We didn’t do the Ghosts of New Orleans Tour, but this one still managed to make an appearance.

Then we wandered through some more of the streets—which are really beautiful, by the way:

Behold the Frenchness!

And headed home at a painfully early hour for New Orleans, as I had school visits lined up for the next day and Hungover Gina is even less of a coherent speaker than Sober Gina.

Signed books left in my wake:
Barnes and Noble, Baton Rogue: 2590 Citiplace Court

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