A Journey Abroad
Um þessa hljóðbók
Flying from Dulles in Washington DC to whatever the name is of the international airport in Zurich I kept waiting for feelings of anxiety and nervousness.
I was hoping that this would be like the proverbial descent into stardom, that waiting masses of admirers would greet me at the gate, like the Beatles arriving at JFK, screaming my name and waving signs. But I arrived alone, with no one to even greet me.
The porter did smile and the customs agent wished me a pleasent journey.
“What is the reason for your visit?”
Um höfundinn
It takes a ton of discipline to write a novel. Chris Lowry has written over 100 in six genres. That same ass in seat grit to get after it is the reason he's run 100 mile races, and 50 mile rucks, kayaked the Mississippi River and hiked from the beach to the mountains and back again. When he's ass out of the seat, he's rehabbing old homes to save a small town he can't help but love and managing a small media company making entertainment content for online channels.
