Touring a country that's turned toxic.

Nine cities. Eight flights. Twelve days.

Fellow travelers, the tour for RED STAR HUSTLE / APPREHENSION was exhausting even for a practiced undercover operative like your present correspondent.

The fatigue caused by hopping constantly to fresh multiverses and new corners of space-time is nothing compared to the weariness of staring down a new TSA security line every day.

But. It was absolutely worth it.

Not only did it help the book hit the USA Today bestseller list in its debut week (a career first for me!), it let me meet so many incredible people all over the country.

And that's not nothing, in a time like this. To venture out into a country taken over by a Death Cult, while its government is shut down because said Death Cult would rather burn the building to the ground than provide food or health care to its people, was a terrifying proposition. I was tbh not super thrilled to be leaving behind my safe wonderful radical bubble (where a brown Muslim socialist was the frontrunner in the race for mayor!) so I could visit places that were gleefully electing fascists.

There's a lot I want to tell you about. The packed bookstores where we sold out of copies; the people (MORE THAN ONE PERSON!) who came up to me in the signing line and said I was one of their favorite writers. The windy smoke-smelling drizzle of Portland and the beautiful sunshine of San Diego, both of which were wonderful to bike through.

But that's not what I think will help you the most. What was most moving for me - what I think will be most impactful for you, fellow undercover operative on the struggle bus - was just how many people like me I met.

Even in so-called red states. Even in blue states explicitly founded as racist anti-Black spaces. [ *cough* Portland *cough.* ]

I met people who are mad as hell, who reject hate and fear, who are committed to stopping the ICE raids and the book bans and the complete erasure of the trans community. And the genocides.

People who are noisily, emphatically fighting back.

People who are quietly, prayerfully fighting back.

People who are building queer families and making queer art and organizing protests and creating safe spaces and cooking delicious food for their folks.

I think there's a very human tendency on both sides to think of certain spaces as "yours" and other spaces as "theirs," that depending on how the state or city voted in the last election, it's homogeneously ON your side or AGAINST it.

But that's not the reality of the world we're living in right now. Maybe it was true in the American Civil War, when mass media barely existed and travel was extraordinarily difficult and you could be pretty sure that people within a given geographical region had a fair degree of uniformity of thought because they had to stay put and they were all going to the same churches and schools and the demagogues could control what information and ideas everyone had access to.

That's not who we are now. People move around all the time. I visited nine cities in twelve days, from coast to coast! At least a full year of travel, back in the 19th century, accomplished in under two weeks. Folks move around for lots of reasons; they leave progressive cities and move back to conservative towns for work, or to take care of family members, for a million reasons, and vice versa. And they're exposed to a dizzying multitude of contrasting worldviews and POVs thanks to the internet.

So while we really ARE every bit as divided as we think, we're not GEOGRAPHICALLY divided. We're not ACTUALLY living in warring states. We're living in spaces where a slight preponderance of one community over another means that the politicians they elect are coming from dramatically different ideological positions.

And that was a super meaningful thing to be reminded of.

For one thing, it made me a lot less worried about an ACTUAL Civil War. That's just not who we are right now. Even if Texas declared war on New York tomorrow, there's a lot of folks in Texas who would be on New York's side (and, no shade, a lot of people in New York who would be on Texas's side). Political violence is a reality, possibly a rising one, but it is not

For another, it reminded me that there is still space for action and organizing and building with your neighbors.

If you're feeling helpless and disempowered, find the people who think like you. They're out there, even in places that feel hostile and terrifying. They're at the bookstores, and the libraries, and the coffee shops.

Talk to people. If they've got stickers on their laptops or patches on their jackets or bumper stickers on their cars that make you laugh or feel safe or seen, say so.

Go to events. Protests, yes, but also movies and book club meetings and community board hearings. If you're feeling alone, you're not. Connect with the people who say things that feel true to you.

OF COURSE keep reading great stories, OF COURSE keep writing them.

Stories can help us feel less alone. I love them for that. But the times in my life when I've relied on stories alone for human connectivity have been some of the darkest in my life.

So find the people. Hold them tight. It won't just make your stories stronger. It will make your days better.