“You can’t wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.” —Jack London
Greetings, writers—
It was spring break last week, so we did what we always do, which is throw everyone in the car and drive to Sonoma, CA, where Jon’s grandparents used to live.
Once we got there, we did more of what we’ve always done: we hiked the trail at Bartholomew Vineyard; we ate two dinners at the good Mexican restaurant and two dinners at the bad Mexican restaurant, which we love just as much as the good one; we wandered around the square eating ice cream; and we went to Jack London State Park to visit the giant carp living in the garden’s murky pool.
“I can feel a Substack being written,” Jon said as we walked for the millionth time down the hallway of the cottage Jack shared with his wife, Charmian, who was also a writer.
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