Monday, July 12th, 2004
Without further explanation, they took me to the onsite police station, where I waited for an “interview” with the Transportation Security Administration. By then I was being accused of writing “bomb” on a piece of paper and waving it around for people in the back of the plane to see. While two policemen guarded the door, the honcho behind the desk informed me that my choice of dialogue was unfortunate, that life was not a stage play and that the tiniest thing can ignite fear in American travelers these days. He wanted a summary of my novel’s plot to get the context for why I’d written what I had.