he majority of the book tour actually took place during the summer and fall of 1999. Too often that year, we took the advice of The Artist Formerly Known as Prince, and partied like it was 1999. Which it was. But which, in retrospect, was mostly just a convenient excuse for all that excess. The nation was going crazy. Al Gore was campaigning against Daryl Gates, former head of the L.A.P.D. The Y2K countdown was affecting people in weird ways. Those predisposed to believe in apocalypse were sure it was coming. When enough people are convinced that the world is ending, the world might as well be ending. As for us, we believed in no such thing; we were cutting our feet on the bleeding edge of the next American literature. Our hypertext would generate more criticism than Joyce, of this we were convinced. Still, we met a lot of strange people at our readings. Our only concern, which was, at times, overwhelming, was where to spend New Year’s Eve. We needed to find the best party in America, and we had to start looking in July.