On Sunday morning our colleague Birdman picked me up at my hotel. He likes to keep his identity private, hence the editing in the top photo. I'll just say that he makes his living with words. That hint, while literally true, is utterly unhelpful. You'll just have to come meet him yourself.
We went to breakfast at the popular Blintiff's American Cafe (I wasn't expecting French). The woman at the next table was engrossed in writing her first novel. I said something about her shirt and she allowed me to take her picture. I wonder if there will be anything in the next draft about this tall older guy with a Cardinals cap wandering across Maine with a big camera.
