Should a grown man weep when he’s reunited with his suitcase?

A Hallmark moment it wasn’t, but the emotions were close to the surface as my red wheelie suitcase was rolled out to me last night by the hotel bell hops after I returned from dinner. I have clothes! And shoes! And extra boxer-briefs again! American Airlines came through and I am appreciative.

I did some noodling on the plane out yesterday and came up with some really intriguing plot points for the second book. I’ve been writing scenes and building the structure, but a few areas had eluded me. Something about being on the jet for over five hours really concentrated my thoughts and the ideas flowed. Years ago when I lived in Ottawa I suffered through a severe bout of insomnia. Unable to sleep and refusing to watch television at 2 in the morning I would hop in my car, drive to the airport and sit in the terminal and write. I think it was the knowledge that from there I could literally go anywhere in the world that sparked a lot of ideas. Of course, if I did that now I’d probably wind up on a watch list.

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