tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20345174.post-1165069476197006852006-12-02T09:10:00.000-05:002006-12-02T09:24:54.440-05:00I was thinking this morning of the first booksigning Jenny and I-- her and I-- did. It was on Long Island. Way out on Long Island. I was reminded, yes, naturally, of the Seinfeld episode where George drives his dead fiancees parents to the tip of Long Island pretending he had a house there. Anyway-- it seems like forever ago. As the Grateful Dead say: What a long strange trip it's been.<br /><br />In the beginning we had a cocktail napkin with notes Jenny scribbled- she denies this, but it's true. The Kukumu Bar in Mau-- and no, they weren't serving alcohol yet. A woman who runs a B&B or a film producer. And I teach The Original Idea: have something that will send a shiver down someone's spine. Yawn. Then we had a food critic and a hit man. Which Jenny is still wrestling with on her whiteboards as you know from her web site.<br /><br />Now we have a former mercenary turned head of security; and the vice president of guest relations at the most exclusive resort in the world. They aren't going to like each other much when they first meet. He'll be dirty, grungy, bloody, and just wanting a cold beer when he gets off the floatplane. She's be cool, calm, collected and sharply dressed, waiting to greet the inbound movie stars who are having a clandestine affair at the resort. Sparks will fly, mayhem will ensue. In my Hollywood pitch I'm calling it "Moonlighting, with a darker edge and more action, in a resort setting."<br /><br />Back to the cocktail napkins.Bobhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030209378371995304noreply@blogger.com