Greetings from Book Proposal Land.


I lied. That isn’t really what Book Proposal Land looks like. Not in the winter, anyway.


(Only in the summer, from a ferry.)


It’s quiet here. The nightlife isn’t much to write home about.


Socks and slippers, mostly.

There’s not a lot of sensible eating here in Book Proposal Land. Almost no vegetables.

Just pancakes and coffee. Cereal. Girl Talk. Some John Mellencamp, when I have a sweet tooth. But last night, my friend Sam called, and then there was yellow curry and rice.

And a cocktail with Aperol, white wine, and grapefruit juice. Okay, two cocktails with Aperol, white wine, and grapefruit juice.


I’m going back in. See you in a few.