Sorry I haven’t written in a while. There was a lot going on and I was avoiding having to think about it.
Gladys is dead. The terrorist I interviewed for the book. She died of Covid back in 2022, but I just found out. I have feelings about that I don’t know how to name. Maybe some mixture of regret and relief? I hope her family has peace about it. But my wish that a trained investigator could have another talk with her isn’t going to be fulfilled.
I met with the cold case detective and I wrote about it for Pith. I got some criticism that I was too soft on the police, and I have to tell you, it almost made me hang up my keyboard. I thought the distraught confusion was clear, but apparently not.
It’s really cool, though, to see how many book clubs are going to be reading my book. I like hearing what people think of it. And every time I hear of an old person who grew up in Nashville reading the book, I want to hear if they recognize any names.
I’m trying to keep all the bookstores that ask in a steady supply of signed books. I need to get over to Parnassus, but Third Man has some and The Bookshop has some.
I remain confused about why we’ve all switched over to signing books with Sharpies, though. For slick paper, it makes sense. But I don’t understand it for regular paper.
Also, I really want people in the other cities bombed by the Confederate Underground to start looking into those bombings. I’m putting all my good vibes into the universe for that.