Detroit

–I hate the Renaissance Center. If you ever have wondered what it feels like to have anxiety, just hang out in that monstrosity. If you have anxiety, bring your Xanax.

–The conference was really good and I came away with a lot of ideas about stuff we could do as a press to improve things.

–I also ate so much churizo at this tapas place that I thought I might burst.

–Everyone in Detroit is so super nice.

–The Third Man up there is so neat. The people are great. My cousin A. and her husband came as my entourage, because I never get an entourage in Nashville. I mean, I live here. I just go do what Third Man asks me to do. I don’t need people to help me with that.

But up there? Hell yes I was going to have some people to keep me company and make me feel less awkward.

Which was lovely while the green room was empty and then… holy shit… when members of P-Funk started showing up.

I don’t even really know how to talk about that night. It was wonderful to watch how my cousin reacted to everyone with such compassion and enthusiasm. Her husband was like a kid at Christmas.

There was just this awesome vibe and it really felt like each reader empowered the next to be deeply awesome.

A member of P-Funk held my hand and my dear friend from high school and his awesome partner were there. And it was just great.

Also, at lunch, so this is kind of out of order, I wandered into this deli around back of Third Man and I asked the dude behind the counter what he recommended and he made me a roast beef sandwich like they serve in Heaven.

At lunch, I sent a long email to Third Man telling them the updates on the book–i.e. Oh, hey, the FBI was apparently running the Klan–and asking them to just sit down and talk over whether they want to be a part of this.

They’ve done so much good for me and given me a lot of mind-blowing opportunities. And I really want to publish this book with them.

But I don’t want to cause them any grief.

Right now my title is Dynamite Nashville: The Plot to Terrorize the City and Thwart the Civil Rights Movement. But I’m kind of wondering about Dynamite Nashville: The FBI, The Ku Klux Klan, and the Terrorists They Couldn’t Control. Or maybe The FBI, the KKK, and Why the City’s Integration-Era Bombings were Never Solved. Oh, or Lord, what about The FBI, the KKK, and the Racist Bombers Who Got Away? Okay, not as good as it sounded in my head.

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