Recently I was at the Google headquarters at Mountain View to give an Authors@Google talk (now up on You Tube, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QPbSw5Yo2TA)--and I have to say, I was quite charmed. The "campus" is appropriately named. Watching numerous blue-jeaned young men and women ride their bikes (provided by Google) from one building to another, or pause their day's work to play a game of chess or frisbee, or walk their dogs (Google allows employees to bring pets to work; how cool is that?) took me back to my days at the University of California at Berkeley. There was the same air of intellectual curiosity, excitement at being on the cutting edge, mingling of cultures and high spirited iconoclasm. (I suspect Google has worked hard to create this attractive, quirky, anti-corporate atmosphere). But there was one significant difference. As my wonderful and witty guide Ross Peter Nelson pointed out, a hefty chunk of the under 30s crowd milling around us in the cafeteria were millionaires!

Ah, that cafeteria--one of several on the campus: it was like an "it's a small world after all," with stations serving dishes from China, Japan, India, Italy and others that I didn't even get to because my plate got over-full. There was a huge salad bar; there was a place for vegans; there was organic food (some of it grown right there on the Google premises) and a decadent desserts counter. And yes, folks: lunch is free. So are breakfast and dinner. Plus I'm told they do your laundry for you. (A brilliant move, actually, on the part of the founders, to reduce the hassles of daily living so their employees can pour more attention into their work). Munching on my delicious seaweed salad, I couldn't help fantasizing about how much more writing I could get done if only someone would do my laundry and cook my meals.

Seriously, though, Google has already helped my writing life immensely. Because of Google, my research has become exponentially easier and faster. Where before I would have to make trips to the library and search the stacks, or go through newspaper archives on microfiche readers (remember those, folks?) that I could never work properly, or request books through inter-library loans which would then take weeks to arrive, now I can just point and click.

Thanks for that, Larry and Sergey.

As some of you know, I was recently in Northern California as part of my paperback book tour for Palace of Illusions. I didn't have much time between an afternoon event at Authors on Google and a reading at Bookshop Santa Cruz (a great, rambling independent store I want to just live in every time I visit it). But I made it a point to stop by at some of my favorite independent bookstores along the way, such as Keplers in Menlo Park, Books Inc. in Mountain View and Capitola Book Cafe, to sign books and say hello to the booksellers.

The atmosphere in each indie bookstore I've been in is unique and inviting in a special way. There are nooks to sit in and read, sometimes a cafe for a snack (Capitola Book Cafe has great sandwiches and quiches--I know, because I ate dinner there that night!) but most of all, dedicated, intelligent and well read booksellers who always have time to talk to you and recommend books. These people are there, sometimes battling economic odds, because of their love for books. They are the ones who often "discover" books by new, unknown writers and enthusiastically handsell them. That was certainly the case with my first book of stories, Arranged Marriage, which would have never made it onto the SF Chronicle bestseller list--and thus onto the radar of award committees--without their passionate support.

What was so heartwarming was that these booksellers remembered me even though I'd moved to Texas years ago. They'd say things like, "I remember every event you've done here--and I've been at all of them," or "I remember when you used to come in and ask for book recommendations, even before your first book was published."

In this day of shifting allegiances and relationships that are blurry with speed, that counts for a lot.

We're blessed here in Houston with 2 great independents: Brazos Books and Blue Willow Bookshop. They bring in the best authors from all over the country. I've read at both & I'm looking forward to doing an event at Blue Willow on March 30--so come if you're in the area.

Folks, I urge you to support your independent bookstore, if you're lucky enough to have one where you live. They are truly our national treasures--and an endangered species.

If you have a favorite bookstore, or a bookstore story, do write in and let us know.

Blog: Amazing Things