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Whenever I visit Hawai’i, I like to remember that I’m on a relatively tiny island in the middle of the huge Pacific Ocean. It’s has a way of putting things in perspective.

I feel myself slowing down to island time. We have been out exploring mostly. I’ve been reading my Kaua’i-based mystery, Ginger Torch, by Toby Neal, and it’s quite good…intriguing and gripping. In fact, I read a couple hours on the flight over and felt like I was already on the island before we arrived. I’ve also started to think about the short story I’d like to set here but no plot has taken form in my mind…not even an inkling. That’s all right…I’m absorbing the sights, sounds, smells…a story will emerge eventually.

I have found a couple sights I want to explore from a writer’s viewpoint…the Westernmost bookstore in the United States, and a cafe called Hemingway’s Cafe, I spotted today. Perhaps, like Mark Twain, Hemingway’s relationship to the island is mythical as well, but that’s a topic in itself.

Tonight, a train ride and luau.

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