Tomorrow, my second book in the Ranger Martin series releases. That sentence makes it sound as if something’s about to escape the San Diego Zoo. From what I know, literature doesn’t eat people. At least I don’t think it does. So I wouldn’t worry about wild books named Ranger Martin and the Alien Invasion running rampant in the streets. It’s just not going to happen—although you may encounter a slightly crazed author attempting to sell you his novel. And I use the word “attempting” in the loosest of terms because half the time, I have no clue what I’m doing.

Jack Flacco takes action to a new level.

I mean, I’d rather drive around aimlessly than spare myself the embarrassment of asking for directions. That’s how one year my family and I made it through Maine to Nova Scotia. How else do you think I’ve survived this long? I’m…