Jim, Jim, Jim. Jim sent me a few questions yesterday. A whole slew of them. Craft questions. How do I and what's my process. I was on my Motorola Q and I didn't want to get Q finger, but I promised him I'd answer them. Then it occurred to me that other people might be interested too, especially sicne I can't recall the last time I blogged about anything like that. But before I answer, let me tell you how I met Jim. The first time I saw him, it was before my naked escape. In Heathrow airport in London. I was confused because I'd been told to meet my group at the Meeting Point. Being an American, I thought the Meeting Point would be a lounge or something very obvious, not an actual point. Heathrow is huge, so I walked miles and miles and was on yet another escalator, when a voice behind me says, "You're Nina Foxx." Writer's don't get recognized, so I was a little discombobulated. I was, indeed, Nina Foxx, but how could I fly to the oth...
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