But I’m not a writer… you may be thinking. I’m not a storyteller. That’s crap. We’re all both.
So there I sat in my room, surrounded by yellow legal pads and index cards, trying to figure out what the hell I was going to hand over to Norman. Fixing a resume proved difficult enough, now I had to share something more personal. I had to turn in my work.
“Eisenhower.” He said. Norman responded to my question like it was no big deal. "Eisenhower?" “Eisenhower.”