There comes a time on every tour where things start getting weird.

The escorts snap at you. The bookstores try to get you to sign copies of WHEN BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE in lieu of GOOD IN BED. Your laptop explodes.

Usually, this doesn't happen until the tail end of the tour, when you've been on the road for twelve days straight and are running out of good will and clean underwear.

This time, we're starting the festivities early.

Round One: interview over lunch with well-meaning and very friendly reporter who asked some of the weirdest questions I've ever heard, including this one:

"So, have you made any money from the books?"

Huh?

"I, um, well..." I finally managed to stammer out some hopefully polite yet euphemestic version of Yes. Which led into her next question.

"Who handles the money in your house? You, or your husband?"

What?

If I'd been just a little quicker out my feet, I would have grinned and said, "Neither! We've given that job to Billy Joel's former manager!"

Alas, quick I was not.

More later, including a report from last night's fabulous reading in downtown Philadelphia. Right now I'm running off to Radio Times. Feel free to call in and ask me stuff!

Jen