Who would have ever thought that researching and writing a book on sex in America would result in a life-changing business trip to China? Certainly, I wouldn’t have, but it did. Alas, I don’t have time to tell you about it right now because the trip put me severely behind in my sex book rewrite. In fact, it’s nearly 10 o’clock at night and I haven’t met today’s minimum page count, which is imperative to do because my August 1 deadline is non-negotiable. So, I need to get back to the book.
In fact, since I am so behind in rewrite, my planned one-month blogging hiatus is going to have to change to a two-month hiatus.
But I will tell you this tidbit of info because it explains the title of this blog post and the photo below:
I met some businessmen from Hong Kong who have a company that grows, processes, and sells organic ginger. They joked that my trip was going to result in a novel about a reporter who meets and falls in love with a ginger farmer. Then they drove our little entourage into the mountainous farmlands of China where we walked through their leased caves storing their fresh ginger. As we emerged from a dark, chilly, spider-infested cave into the Chinese sunlight, I saw a tall, lean Chinaman in a navy blue shirt and wearing a coolie hat. He was the owner of the ginger caves and a farmer, too. I wanted a picture of him, so I had my traveling companion stand where it looked like I was taking a picture of my friend, but was really photographing the farmer. But when the farmer grinned and scooted into frame, I realized he wanted his photo taken.
Unfortunately, just like now, I was in rush. We had another cave to tour. So I drew down my camera, and we hiked through the farmer’s fields of peanuts, walked through another cave, and hiked back down the mountain. As we walked, I told my companion that I wanted him to take a picture of me with the farmer. But when we returned, the farmer wasn’t there … at least not at first. Then I saw him literally trotting toward us. I smiled, and I laughed. He’d changed from his navy blue shirt into a white shirt that matched mine. We stood next to each other, and my friend took our picture. When I saw it, I laughed again. Notice that we aren’t simply wearing the same color of v-neck, knit shirt, we’re tilting our heads the exact same way, too. Maybe the reporter and ginger farmer are meant to be … or are at least meant to be another book. 🙂
The Reporter and the Ginger Farmer