Happy birthday, Greg! If you were here right now, we’d put a birthday candle in your dog-gnawed roll.
Do you remember your very first visit to The Compound? It was in November 2005, when Borders set up a benefit signing for us at Meteor to raise money to send to NOLA post-Katrina. You had a couple of Scotty books to sign (and that weekend, Tim and I proofread the galleys of Mardi Gras Mambo for you, I think), at least two Chanse books, and others including Midnight Thirsts and Shadows of the Night. We were signing at least two TJB novels as well as The Deal and the newly released Three Fortunes in One Cookie (RIP, little takeout cover).
I’m not sure that we raised a significant amount of money, but your visit and all the other good things it led to over the years bring to mind “it’s an ill wind that blows no good.” Lots of visits between New Orleans and Houston, good times in Manhattan, book signings, connections for us all to new writers who’ve filled our anthologies and become our friends–I won’t thank the hurricane, but those things are reassurance that we can rise above and move past adversity.
And so–onward, to celebrations like birthdays and more books!
Happy birthday, Greg!
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Let’s see, what do I remember about that first visit to the Compound?
I remember that on that Friday morning I took the Flying Couch to have it serviced because the engine was missing, thinking it needed a tune-up and I was driving to Kentucky for Thanksgiving the next week and there were no mechanics in New Orleans, and after dropping it off Paul called me to tell me that the only time the FEMA inspector could come was at nine the next morning so I had to go home…and then checking the messages on my crappy disposable cell phone to find out that my grandmother had died and the funeral was on Sunday and I needed to be in Alabama also on Saturday….
I remember staying up all night laughing and laughing and drinking too much coffee and smoking too many cigarettes.
I remember being so grateful that the two of you agreed to proof read the galleys because I still couldn’t face reading about the New Orleans that was just yet, and Tim laughing out loud a few times about “his calves were steers” and another time looking at me and just saying, “How many of them ARE there?”
I remember River with the Golden Liver following me around and wanting me to pet him all the time.
I remember sitting on that couch in your writing offices with dogs all around me sleeping and glaring at me whenever I tried to move.
I remember bringing a trunk load of BBQ Fritos to pay for my stay.
I remember how kind and sweet and friendly and lovely your mother was to me.
I remember being made to feel so welcome that it was like finding a home away from home, which is how I’ve thought of the Compound ever since.
Lots of good stuff to remember! I love looking at the photos, ’cause who knew John(nie) would one day be at Murder By the Book after Borders–and you met Lindsey and Rhonda at Meteor–and there was still at least a wisp of a gay bookstore then, and you signed your stock there, too.
Yes, we stopped at the gay bookstore on the way home from Meteor, I think?
And I thought I met the Ninjas on that trip, but wasn’t sure–that makes total sense because the vast majority of my Ninja memories in Houston are actually at the Compound itself.
All these years, and still no hushpuppies…merely dog-gnawled rolls.
Yes, you did first meet us at Meteor during that trip, but only because we Ninjas allowed ourselves to be seen. 😉
Happy belated birthday, Greg!
happy birthday Greg!!