In any case, my subject lives in Brooklyn, and it would be a hassle for her to have to travel all the way to Harlem each time we meet. I need to maintain a low barrier for entry, making things as easy as possible for her, so she doesn't get spooked by the intimacy and invasiveness of this process. My last subject, whose book will be out in August, had no trust issues at all. She dived into the deep end, holding back nothing, believing I would know how to frame her stories. She also knew she would get to read the manuscript before anyone else, and that she could make any edits she needed to feel comfortable. After all, it's her book. In the end, she was fearless. I think it has to do with the fact that the very worst day of her life had already happened, her son was killed, and if she could survive that, she could survive it all. Her agent noted that she was his only client who signed off every call with, "Bye! Love you!" And if you said it first (because we totally loved her by the end), she would chime in, "Love you more!"
I've been doing a bit more walking lately, striding resolutely through the pain. What's different is that I found shoes that actually make walking easier for me. They sort of pitch me back onto my heels, changing my whole posture, and they are well cushioned, so that the motion of putting down each foot doesn't jar my already jarred joint structure. The shoes are sandals, so I couldn't wait till it got warm enough for me to start wearing them again. They're ridiculously expensive, yet I'm considering ordering a couple more pairs, just to have them on standby. As for my walks, they're a modest notion compared to our marathon walker Mary Moon, but I'm strolling around the neighborhood, logging steps, distance, time, elevation, and even my average heart rate on my Apple Watch, because the other day my husband showed me its very cool workout mode, which I find to be a rather motivating feature. And on my walks I take pictures. Like Steve Reed. See? My blog pals inspire me!