Well, that's not entirely accurate. The trigger was pulled in a figurative sense when The Wife and I bought plane tickets and flew across the country back in February for a research trip. That financial outlay committed me to the project, come hell or high water. So eight or so months have passed since She Who Is All-Knowing And All-Wise told me to "Quit bitching about it and write the damn book yourself." In that time I've conducted more than 24 hours' worth of interviews with more than a dozen different sources, spent countless hours in the library poring through books, journals and newspapers, and countless more hours online, tracking down ever vaporous hint of an interesting story or person related to the Chicken Ranch. And the transcription. Goodness, gracious, the book might be published before I complete all the transcription I have stacked up.
But last night, well, last night was momentous. I sat down in my office, and after a suitable amount of dithering and cold sweats, actually wrote for-true words intended to appear in the future published volume. The book is started. Let's see if I can finish it before it finishes me...
Now Playing: Jimmy Buffett Boats, Beaches, Bars & Ballads
Go, Jayme, go!
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