On the road again: Austin, day 2

Waking up at seven-thirty always feels bad to me, but it's particularly awful when I don't go to sleep until after four a.m. So, the start of my morning was a bit rough.

Most of the day went to meetings, and the rest I spent working. In the course of all this, I learned the sad news that a friend and client had suffered a death in his family; my heart and wishes are with you, buddy.

Dinner tonight was a lovely meal at Jeffrey's. I'd never been there before, but I'd certainly go back.

Sitting alone in my hotel room last night, writing Children No More and falling completely into it, despite the hour losing track of time for a bit and just being in the story, I was struck by the power of storytelling. Whether telling a story or listening to it, if everything is clicking time melts away, even if only for a few minutes, and you are somewhere else, doing something else, and that is magic. When I was young, reading was often my only escape from a lot of very bad stuff, and when I couldn't read, I made up my own stories. I still do, and it's still magic, and maybe that's why I have to write.