What Makes Book Tour Magic?

10 lessons in photos from the Climate Wayfinding book tour.

Jul 16, 2026

This spring held a pendulum for me—from the frenetic whirlwind of a six-week book tour to the requisite stillness of hip surgery. (If you have functioning, happy labrums, know you are blessed!)

The sudden and lengthy pause gave me a chance to reflect on the experience of journeying with Climate Wayfinding across the U.S. I learned a lot about what infuses a book tour with meaning and magic (and some semblance of sanity).

They’re relevant lessons, I think, for anyone working at the nexus of narrative change and community engagement. Ten are offered here, via photos. What would you add?

1. More of the arts.

Here, cellist Okorie “OkCello” Johnson and I are onstage at the Carter Presidential Library for a music-filled hometown book launch.

2. Sanctuary spaces.

Here, Megha Agrawal Sood artfully steers a conversation at the Boulder Bookstore, where the beautiful upstairs “ballroom” is ringed in stacks.

3. Mingling generations.

Here, the tender moment of signing a book for an old friend’s Earth-loving daughter—and feeling the intergenerational nature of climate work and community.

4. Nourishment of friends.

Here, Lande Ajose embodies the joyful, grounding, much-needed antidote to the machinery of amplification: one-on-one time with friends.

5. Cross-pollination.

Here, books sparked an emergent conversation with Bill McKibben—moderated by Kate Aronoff—that surfaced fresh questions, ideas, and possibilities.

6. Re-weaving community.

Here, in the bosom of Malaprops in Asheville, the surprise-delight of reconnecting with Lydia Koltai, a 2022 Climate Wayfinding program alum.

7. Oh, bodies!

Here, on our feet in the “Church of Jimmy Carter,” a somatic expression of power and joy—how life-force feels in the body.

8. Poetry, please.

Here, a soul-filling afternoon at Manny’s in SF, reading and exploring with the wondrous Jane Hirshfield. (And Ayana Elizabeth Johnson in cute striped pants!)

9. The sacred.

Here, an alter—with a photo of a formative teacher, a scarf woven by a friend, red-tailed hawk feathers found the day my father died, and fresh-from-the-farm flowers gifted by book midwife Christian Leahy.

10. Earth, always.

Photo by me at the Portland Japanese Garden

Here, before an event at Powell’s, rhododendrons and azaleas grounded me in the dazzle and miracle of life—the continuation of which is the whole point, after all.

I loved the laughter, tears, creativity, and human-to-human connection of this book tour. I loved linking arms with a veritable village of generous partners. (The being away from animals, flying on planes, and breakneck schedule—not so much.) Most of all, I feel very grateful to have had the chance to help Climate Wayfinding find its first readers. If you made it to an event, thank you. It meant more than you know.

P.S. Dr. Britt Wray writes the invaluable Unthinkable newsletter. This week, she explored Climate Wayfinding alongside ecopsychologist Dr. Thomas Doherty’s recent book. The resonance she saw between the two was identity: “knowing thyself in the wreckage as a way to both feel better and be more impactful in one’s actions.” Read on.