Friday, May 05, 2006
A Picture Is Worth 149 Words
I'm finally finishing the revisions on my book, Stalking the Wild Dik-Dik. Today I'm revising the last chapter in the list of things to revise. There will probably be another round of cleaning things up, but this damn book is finally almost out of my life. (It's normal for me to hate the book at this point. I despised the camping guidebooks with every fiber of my being when I was almost done with them; now I look at them fondly because following a structure is easy compared to writing a book of your own design.)
I'm still sad that the publisher didn't want anything the least bit comic book-y in it.
Here's some text, and the same thing told in illustrated form (by Don Hudson).
I left 680 and walked for a coffee. The same man who had called me a "son of a bitch" earlier in the week addressed me.
I wasn't ready to leave Nairobi yet. I was just getting comfortable with it. I was just getting used to the smell of the city where it was easy to buy deodorant, but harder to find anti-perspirant. People were just starting to recognize and greet me. But the Dragoman truck was heading north to Ethiopia, and if I missed it, I'd have to hitch a ride on a desert cargo truck. In spite of my wariness of group activities, I knew I had to go with Dragoman. I headed towards the hotel to pack my bag. A familiar man walked up beside me.
"Still walking, huh?"
"You already tried this once," I responded, smiling.
"Son of a bitch," he said and strode away.