Got home from New York on Monday night, and it was a good trip. Damn, that’s a big city. There must be hundreds of people living there.

We flew into JFK and took a cab to our hotel in the Financial District. You might be asking--Why the Financial District? Well, I’ve managed to save up $74, and I wanted to find a suitable investment vehicle. Great hotel, with plenty of space and a large-screen TV. I came home with a small fortune in fancy toiletries.

We had dinner with my gracious agent and her husband on Thursday night in Brooklyn. Very nice evening. A great way to start the trip.

Friday, I made the rounds to the mystery bookstores to sign stock. The first shot below is me with Russell at The Black Orchid. Obviously, one of us had just said something very funny. Or maybe not. Maybe we were standing in Jello, which always makes a person giggle. The second shot is me signing stock at the Mysterious Bookshop. Those New York bookstores have a homelike feel you won’t find anywhere else.

Saturday, I went to Book Expo America and signed books at the Mystery Writers of America booth. Joe and Bonnie (from The Black Orchid) were there, so it was good to catch up with them. Thanks to Margery Flax of the MWA for organizing it. Margery works harder than anybody to promote the crime-fiction genre. One guy had me sign a book for a prison library. I was tempted to write something like, “To my buds in Cell Block D--good luck at the parole hearing.” But I resisted. Didn’t want to get shanked on a street corner someday.

I’m already forgetting on which days we did various things, but we visited the American Museum of Natural History on Friday, I think. Neat stuff there. Old stuff. Go figure. The Star of India, for instance, which is the largest sapphire in the world. I made an offer, but they wouldn’t sell.

Also went to see the Frick Collection. Great paintings by some of the masters. It’s housed in a home that used to belong to a man name Frick. See how that makes sense?

Then, of course, there’s MOMA--the Museum of Modern Art. I’m not big on modern art, but there was some cool stuff there. There was a huge white wall that was covered with graffiti-like drawings from a foreign dude. Sort of a commentary on life in America, I gather, and he was right on target. One scrawl in particular made me laugh. It’s in the center of the third shot below. Can you read it? However...there was some stuff at MOMA that made me roll me eyes. Example: An empty room with a cartoonish mouse hole cut into the bottom of a wall. Cartoon music was playing, and the name of this “artwork” was “Waiting for Tom.” Or “Waiting for Jerry.” I can’t remember which. It has sociopolitical ramifications or something, I’m sure, but I just didn’t get it.

Sunday we had brunch with my former editor and his wife (and their dog Henry, who was a fine temporary surrogate for my dog, Nellie). They live at the northernmost part of Manhattan, and there was construction on the subway, so we had to take the last leg on a bus. Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock were aboard, so it made me nervous.

Speaking of celebrities, after brunch, we met some friends near the Lincoln Center later that day, and at a nearby crafts show, I think I saw Nelson DeMille. I’m a big fan of his books, but I didn’t know for sure if it was him, so I didn’t approach him. Hold on a second while I surf the Web and compare photos of Nelson with the man I saw. Okay, I’m back, and the man I saw definitely was not Nelson DeMille. Oh, well. Wasn’t that a thrilling anecdote nonetheless?

Monday, we had lunch with my new editor and the new publisher at Minotaur. Gracious, friendly men, but what would you expect me to say in a blog? But they really were. I look forward to working with both of them. (And, guys, if you’re reading this, sorry about spilling cream of lentil soup on your laps.)

The hotel was across from the World Trade Center site, and we went over there in the rain on our last day in town. There is a temporary memorial of sorts set up there, with photos. I don’t know what to say, except that I suddenly found myself getting emotional. Even now, thinking back, it makes me tear up. There were several photos that showed firefighters and police officers escorting civilians out of the buildings, prior to going back in, never to be seen again. I can’t even fathom what kind of courage that took.

Next up: Lubbock on Friday and Midland on Saturday. If you’ve ever been to either of these cities, please tell me where the subway stations are.

I know this is last-minute, but I completely spaced out...

I'm going to be on a radio show tonight---Writers, Authors, n' More, with host Megan Willingham on AdviceRadio.com.

It starts at 7:00 p.m Central time, which is in less than three hours.

If you'd like to call in and ask questions or make comments, the number is 800-405-6425.

If you're more technically accomplished than I am, you can listen online, at, well, www.AdviceRadio.com.

Hope to hear from you.

Had a great signing at the Barnes & Noble in Westlake (west side of Austin) last night. (A big shout-out to the lovely and talented Jo Virgil, CRM extraordinaire.)

I used to live across the street from this B&N, back when there was nothing here but cows and trees. We're talking nearly thirty years ago. I used to have a treehouse about a hundred yards from where the store stands. Prime real estate.

The first shot is the crowd, who was under the impression that I’d be entertaining. The second shot is the crowd (still waiting for me to deliver) from the other side of the room. The third shot is Ronnie and Ben playing the roles of Billy Don and Red. Two words for you, guys: acting classes. The fourth shot is my wife’s thumb. And isn’t it an exquisite thumb? Or maybe it’s a finger. In either case, exquisite.

To New York tomorrow. Update when I get back.

PS: Thanks, Patrick Beach!

The Austin American-Statesman was kind enough to run a lengthy profile on me and my books this morning. I’m thrilled with it, because it captures the spirit of the books very well. A few friends have sent me e-mails, congratulating me. Which reminds me of a story...

Not long after the first book (Buck Fever) came out, Publishers Weekly named it as one of the best mysteries of the year. That particular morning, my wife and I were installing ceramic tile in one of our bathrooms. I was in the process of removing the toilet when my editor called. He was very excited, and of course we were, too. He faxed the article, and we reveled in the moment. Then the moment passed, and Becky said something like, “What do you want to do now?” I said, “Well, I guess I’ll finish removing the toilet.”

Ah, good times.

Anyway, if you’re interested, you can see the Statesman article at...

http://www.statesman.com/life/content/life/stories/books/05/29/0529rehder.html

On Thursday, I drove down to Corpus Christi for a signing at the Barnes & Noble. Waiting for me was a young man named Braxton Harris, and we had a good conversation (meaning I babbled at him for quite some time). Turns out Braxton knows several of the game wardens I know, and in fact Braxton is planning to become a warden. There’s heavy competition for the open spots, but after speaking to him (or at him) for an hour, I have no doubt he’ll get selected. Braxton, if you’re reading this, thanks for coming by. And don’t arrest me later, okay? I know it’s hard to believe, but the governor granted me special rights to shoot deer anywhere I want, day or night. Below is a photo of Braxton (wearing his Texas Game Warden Association T-shirt) and another loyal reader (with her husband in tow). I had her name written down, but I misplaced it, so forgive me, uh, I’ll call you Gretchen. (My thanks to Ursula, the lovely CRM.)

I stayed at the Motel 6 that night (didn’t I tell you I was a bargain traveler?) and it was pretty crummy. Mildewy smelling. Of course, we were near the Gulf, so every motel probably smells mildewy. And yes, once again, I got a late-night phone call. Some moron called at about 1:00 a.m. and asked an obscene question. I’m too embarrassed to repeat it here. I called him an effing idiot, hung up, then unplugged the phone. It’s standard practice for me to unplug the phone when I’m on the road, but I’d forgotten to do it this time. After all this time, it still amazes me how often the phone rings in the middle of the night when you stay at a Motel 6. Tom Bodett doesn’t mention that fact in the radio spots. Wish I had his number so I could forward the calls to him.

Friday morning, I hit the road at about 9:00 and it rained for two solid hours on my way to San Antonio. I stopped to see my mom and stepdad for lunch, then did some drop-in signings at a couple of stores. That includes Remember The Alibi (great name, huh?), where I met the new owner, Ray Hengst. Ray and Sue would be happy to sell you a signed copy of Gun Shy. Just email them at rtalibi@sbcglobal.net or call them at (210) 344-7776. Tell them I sent you.

My signing that evening was at the Fiesta Trails B&N, where about ten people showed up to hear me speak. I attached a photo below, but I forgot to take photos until most of the people had left. But there were about ten people throughout the night. Really. Why would I lie? Okay, yeah, but why else? Audience members included Barbara, Polly, Danny, Melinda, Marvin, Janet (I think), several who slipped away before I could get my claws into them, and Ellen (the lovely CRM).

Yesterday, I visited the B&N in Round Rock, where one of my most loyal readers was waiting. Thanks, Susan! (You, too, Sonny, for snapping photos.) They didn’t bring their boys along this time, and they didn’t have a plausible explanation, so I think they sold them on the black market. Hope you got a decent price, guys. Then my friend (and fellow author) Marsha Moyer showed up with her mother Barbara. It actually started to look like I was popular. Then everybody left. Okay, just me again. But wait. Another mega-loyal reader, Joe, showed up with his family. I didn’t have a camera, so I don’t have any pictures of them, so you’ll just have to trust that they’re not imaginary. I also signed a book for a young boy’s dad, and you’ll notice that the boy had a copy of one of Rick Riordan’s books. Rick is doing phenomenally well, and it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy. Rick is one of the most genuinely friendly people you’ll ever meet, except for that time he tried to run me over with his Suburban. Just kidding. It was an Expedition. (My thanks to Frank, the lovely CRM. All CRMs are lovely, you see.)

Going to New York on Thursday. I really love New York, especially the vomit in the streets, and the sweet smell of exhaust. Will report back later.