Leaving Munich: Gone as quick as it Came

Next morning we all awoke together. We talked for a while, I bid my farewell to everyone, if a bit regretfully, and checked out of Munich. I’ve spent more or less the rest of this day on a train trying to bring this journal up to the times.

Ok, that’s a lie. I’ve spent mostly the whole day procrastinating writing, but actually reading Golden Fool, by Robin Hobbs. I’ve finished it now. Damn my eagerness, I want the last book.

The night that I had trouble sleeping, I spent a great deal of time composing a letter to the author in my head. I think I may actually send one when I get home. But then, so much of what I’d want to write to her would sound kind of creepy.

I’ve never, in all my reading, encountered a character I can better identify with than the main character of her novels, FitzChivalry, which is made odder by the fact that he must be one of the most developed characters I’ve ever read. But the deeper he’s developed the more I empathize with him.

How exactly would you go about telling an author that they have a knack for casually broaching ethical, political, and psychological issues that have been twirling around your head in the very recent past? It feels as if she’s got a flashlight in my eye and has been somehow examining the contents of my head.