There was a moment at the airport in DC when I wondered why I had agreed to go from Chicago to Maryland and back in 36 hours. Social distancing left not enough seats at the gate for everyone on the packed flight, and so people had to stand and didn’t seem to care that we couldn’t board until passengers on the arriving flight deplaned. Not a lot of masks but plenty of wet coughs and sneezes…it was great to see author friends at the festival but our event wasn’t very well attended and I doubt many books were sold. So, was it worth it? I think I thought a quick trip would be easier to recover from, with less risk of exposure to COVID. I got up early on Friday, had breakfast, went to the post office, then hurried back home to do a virtual visit for a school in NYC. As soon as it ended, I packed my laptop and headed to the airport; by the time I got off the plane, I’d managed to pull something in my back so the hour-long ride from DC to Gaithersburg was very uncomfortable. I stocked up on Tylenol at the hotel and ordered in before prepping my presentation for that evening’s meeting of the Creative Residency for Black Puppeteers (CRBP). I got some great feedback on how to assemble my spider puppet before logging off and getting very little sleep that night. Went for a walk at 8am but it was already sweltering; cooled off, met friends for brunch nearby, and then took the shuttle to the festival. Our moderator was fantastic and came bearing gifts but as soon as our one-hour conversation and 30-minute signing session were over, I collected my suitcase, called an Uber, and headed back to the airport. My back wasn’t hurting as much and the verbal altercation over a window in first class fortunately didn’t escalate. I got home, submitted my receipts to my publicist, and immediately ordered a pizza for dinner. Fell asleep on the couch and couldn’t fall back to sleep after waking at 3am. I’m whining, I know. Not many authors are able to write for a living; they have full-time jobs and hustle to find time to write after hours. It took years for me to reach this stage and I guess this is my cost-benefit analysis. It’s not often that I get invited to book festivals, so I feel I have to say yes when I do and authors owe it to their publisher to get out there and promote the book. But I know I want to pivot away from this author life so I’ve got to make that shift in my mind as well. I’ve spent most of today working on my toy theater, but only got to work after taking a walk, then some migraine medication, and a long nap. Travel takes you out of your routine and messes with whatever momentum you managed to build before stopping to pack. I have just one in-person event coming up here in Chicago; everything else this summer is virtual. But I’ve got a family event in Toronto next month that’s turning into a headache…the pandemic has made me too comfortable with operating from home and disinclined to extend myself unless it’s absolutely necessary. The CRBP allows me to experiment and play and learn and grow. Our community is virtual right now but a Black woman puppeteer reached out to me yesterday to invite me to join two other organizations—one for puppeteers in general and the other for Black women puppeteers specifically. There’s no money in making puppets and that’s also freeing. I don’t need an agent or a massive following on social media. Just enough courage to potentially make a fool of myself, make mistakes, make slow progress over time. And possibly make something beautiful.