On the road again and in a Florida state of mind

Trippin' to Florida, which was my favorite of all the places I lived as a kid. Gary and I flew over to bottle wine at my sister's and fetch the car back from the guys' baja road trip. Driving along the coast has always been good for words. Gulf stream of consciousness as it were. And then there are places like Destin, where my sister and I met up about this time last year...
I need the sea. The sea doesn't need me. The same is true of the publishing industry. The same is true of parenting children who are no longer children. It's vaguely insulting but on a deeper level liberating to know that the world of books, the lives of my children, the muddy swamp that is politics these days, all this and more will go on with or without my help, as sure as the tide rolls in and out whether or not I sit there. This realization spawns a mellower, less control freaky approach to life. It casts me as an observer, which is what a good writer must be before anything else.


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