No Big Deal. He’s Just Tim. (Freaking. Cahill.)

“…Two days before the conference began, driving south through the chilly fog of California’s North Coast, I still hadn’t been able to write the required 2,500 word essay for the class. The only thing I had were words – about 8,000 of them – written in my blog as fodder for my memoir. So I pieced them together until my eyes got scratchy and lost focus, there in the quaint little motel that catered to vacationing families and cannabis dealers in the Emerald Triangle to connect with growers…”

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