Fun & Games Across America: French Quarter, Garden District

Many friends told me that I was insane for visiting New Orleans in July -- that my pale Yankee ass would spontaneously combust upon contact with the humid atmosphere of the Big Easy. And yes, sure, it was ridiculously hot touring the French Quarter this morning. But you learn to adapt. When the sweat starts to pour down your face, you simply duck into whatever shop is closest, because the air conditioning is sure to be blasting full-tilt. Doesn't matter what kind of shop. Today I found myself in a praline store, a store that sold feathery masks and stuffed birds, a postal shop, and a hotel where William Faulkner, Truman Capote and Sherwood Anderson once stayed. (Okay, that last one was on the purpose; it was the Hotel Monteleone, and it's very much worth checking out if you're in town.)

New Orleans, I've learned, is all about going with the flow. You're not exactly in control of yourself, which is just how the city wants you. Just before noon today, when thunder boomed and wet fat drops started to fall, we ran across the street and into a restaurant that I half-remembered as advertising "live jazz brunch." The restaurants turned out to be The Court of Two Sisters, and both the food (a hot and cold buffet) and live jazz (a bass, banjo and clarinet trio) turned out to be pretty amazing, especially as it pissed down hard outside. There is no better place to be stranded, especially when you have a bowl of jambalaya and a couple of Sazeracs to keep you company.

 

Of course, I did manage to make a few intentional stops, such as visiting the Faulkner House Bookshop. Small place, but what a treat. I picked up Faulkner's first two novels, Soldiers' Pay and Mosquitoes, as well as Thinking of Home: William Faulkner's Letters to His Mother and Father, 1918-1925 and a hardcover edition of one of my favorite books, Some Time in the Sun by Tom Dardis. Faulkner's Mosquitoes will be the book that resonates with me this whole dang road trip; my legs have been absolutely savaged by the little bastards.

Later in the afternoon, I set off down lovely St. Charles Street with my bodyguard (that would be my eight-year-old daughter Sarah) for a drop-in signing at Octavia Books, which is a fantastic indie store in the uptown area. Not only did I sign some copies of Fun & Games, but they also had a whole bunch of copies of the new edition of The Perfect Drink For Every Occasion, the cocktail guide I wrote almost a decade ago. Meanwhile, Sarah picked up a Diary of a Wimpy Kid book and two pens that allegedly last for seven years. Huge thanks to Mark for making us feel right at home.

Next stop: the Garden District Book Shop, where I signed copies of Fun & Games and talked smack about Sara Gran and Megan Abbott with the store's manager, Ted. (Just kidding, guys. We were singing your praises... honest!) I picked up a copy of Wicked New Orleans: The Dark Side of the Big Easy by Troy Taylor, while Sarah bought a copy of Roald Dahl's The BFG and a journal with a fur cover. Again, a great indie store, and one I heartily recommend you visit if you're ever in the NOLA area.

Tomorrow the tour continues to Houston, which I consider a second home. (Seriously, I've been there more times than any other city besides Philly.) Can't wait to hang with the aforementioned Ms. Gran and Ms. Abbott, as well as my good friends at Murder By the Book. Check my Twitter feed for road updates along the I-10 from New Orleans all the way across the Texas border.

Postcard update: Oh, man, did I score some insane postcards today from all over the French Quarter. Cards going out to Richard P. in Jefferson City, MO; Jim O'G in Omaha, NE; John B. in NYC; Raphael W. in the UK; Bradley McL in L.A; Brian B. in Belleville, IL; Peter V. in Arlington Heights, IL; Gene Z. in Milpitas, CA; Michael K. in Boone, NC; Peter F. in Acworth, GA; Nick T. in Irving, TX; Mark T. in Missoula, MT; Marc M. in Levittown, PA; Steph C. in Las Vegas, NV; Matthew J. in NYC; Luke E. in Madison, WI; Greg B. in Tinley Park, IL and Jim R. in Fort Worth, TX... as well as one wildly inappropriate card to my literary agent, David Hale Smith (because that's how I roll).