This is the first of three hotels I will be staying in this week.
Oddly enough, it will likely by the nicest.
I'm in Indianapolis. Living up to the old ad, "I'm not that bright, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night." Early tomorrow I will fly to Alburquerque. All the socks and underwear are packed. Same with notebooks, research folders, all that rot.
What am I doing here? It has been one thing to write and blog for years now about the paranormal. Now, I'm trying to experience it for real or at the very least to go where such things are said to occur. It's almost too real. I keep thinking about the money I have sunk into this, the strain it has placed in my family, the patented Jon Nichols wake of human wreckage from poor communication, and the squirmy, self-conscious feelings I have when I tell people what I'm doing, what I'm writing, and why I'm doing it.
"Yeah. It's about that."
I then give them a moment to cachinnate.
Geez I'm a mess. I am so good at second guessing myself. Damn near got it perfected. I dream of adventures but when it gets real, I'm frightened. Like an eight year-old in the pool, eyeing the deep end and scared to go any deeper. Just take me out and put me on a deck chair where it's safe. I'll watch from there.
And in doing that, watching is all I will ever do. No, I'm balls deep in this now. Too late to back out. Too many good people have shown belief in me, in my writing, and have donated to make this happen. They've given of themselves. No way I'm letting them down.
The way out is through. I guess you have to do what scares you.
More updates from the road...provided I get wifi.