Phil and I are in Wisconsin; after a flight in which all the passengers were entertained the entire trip by a drunk shouting "GO PACKERS! M@#$F2#$3ING PAAAAAAKKEERRSS!!" until the co-pilot came down and told him to shut up. We got on the ground and did two pretty nice portraits, one of the sherrif (swank). My publisher put us up in the freaking most opulant place I've ever stayed in -- their "author house" is a 100 year old restored farmhouse called "Thorston House" -- it's on acres of property, has five or six bedrooms, a bathroom with a tub the size of a twin bed. If this place isn't haunted no place is. Phil and I spent the last two hours opening all the drawers and poking around in the basement with a flash light (spoookkkyy!). We have a portrait tomorrow at 7:00 a.m., another at 9:00 a.m., then my editor has scheduled a video conference with what I guess is the marketing team.
Everything's going swimmingly -- we're making good contacts too. I think Phil is about two phone calls away from shooting for a classic car magazine. This is one of those enviornments where everybody you meet says "oh, you're a writer? i need someone to write a book about X, you want to do that?"