It came to me in the car. I was a passenger, driving down a Honolulu street lined with palm trees and plate lunch shops: A scene. The kind that often comes to me. Dialogue. A gritty setting. The start of a novel.
So often these moments happen at times and in places where I'm indisposed; more accurately, where no means of writing and recording is at my easy disposal. You see, I need to write when I'm seized when the scene arrives, not wait for an ideal writing time and place.
But in that car, with the tradewinds stirring my imagination, I had at the ready something unavailable to me not too many years ago. A small computer known as a smartphone loaded with Google Docs. And so it was able to be. Even as we crossed the Ala Wai Canal, and Diamond Head receded in our rear view mirror, and we passed by an unnamed warehouse with wooden shutters, I was writing.