"Right on. Thanks!" Ian called out as he made his way back out onto the deck. For just a moment he closed his eyes and let the face that this was really happening hit him. A writer's workshop? Not just that a fiction writer's workshop? Even he was surprised that he'd applied for it. More surprised that he'd been accepted into it. Though, to Ian's great amusement, his parents were a bit thrilled with him.
"Oh what a great opportunity to learn, and with such a mysterious man like that Benjamin Baenare. Be sure and take lots of pictures and write home often about it. We're so proud of you!" his mother had practically gushed at him. Well at least it was one of those rare things that they could see eye to eye on. And according to all those therapy sessions as a kid, that was something he should be thankful for. And... well in a way he was...
Ugh, not the point to this trip though, he reminded himself opening his eyes to look at the horizon. Maybe he'd start on some writers ideas now before arriving at the island. Pulling out a legal pad from his lap top bag, he sat crossed leg on the deck of the ship and thought of what peril he'd throw James into today.
