Where I’m Writing From eli.cranor@gmail.com September 4, 2022 Eli Cranor is an Arkansas novelist whose debut novel, Don’t Know Tough, is available wherever books are sold. He can be reached using the “Contact” page at elicranor.com and found on Twitter @elicranor

I’m writing from the Jackson International Airport.

After a long weekend at the Mississippi Book Festival, I’m ready to be home. Three hours remain until I board my first flight, a flight that will soar 36,000 feet over Arkansas and touch down in Dallas, where I’ll face a two-hour layover before another two-hour flight.

My wife was right — I should’ve driven.

If I had, I would’ve been home by lunch. Now, I’ll be lucky to see my kids before bedtime.

2022 debut novelist, Eli Cranor and Brendan Slocumb pause for a picture at the Mississippi Book Festival.

All these small decisions weigh on me as I write the hours away. This column was supposed to be about the Mississippi Book Festival, my first festival as a published author.

It was great, by the way.

I got to see good friends and fellow Arkansas authors Mark Barr, Greg Brownderville, and Andy Davidson. Greg and Andy are Ouachita Baptist University graduates. Like me, they studied under Johnny Wink in OBU’s English department (aka “The Bugtruck”). It warmed my heart to see my alma mater so well represented in the greater world of Southern literature.

I also got to listen to a jaw-dropping reading by Kendra Allen. I highly recommend her memoir “Fruit Punch.” Fellow 2022 debut novelist Brendan Slocumb made the trip to Jackson as well. We had a blast running from —

My phone buzzes, alerting me that my flight from Dallas to Little Rock has been cancelled. My brain whirs, staring down the barrel of another day spent away. I fire off a few stray texts to my Arkansas buddies, hoping to catch a ride. I leave my laptop open in the chair and run to the American Airlines desk.

I’m back, feeling stupid for leaving my MacBook unattended, but also relieved because a saint of a woman named Rizza was able to get me on a new flight out of Dallas, this one without any layover at all.

Things are looking up. If all goes well, I’ll make it home two hours sooner than I expected.

My mind relaxes, thinking back on the festival, how Brendan won the crowd over talking about his career as a concert violinist and how that experience greatly influenced his debut novel, “The Violin Conspiracy.” How, late last night, we snuck into a gala at our hotel and took selfies with Mississippi socialites in ballgowns and three-piece suits.

It was fun.

The whole trip was fun, but was it worth it?

I’m trying to write my way toward the truth, trying to figure out how to navigate this strange new world of being an “author.” It’s one thing to find time to write — it’s a completely different thing to take time away from your family and your job to travel/promote your work.

The promotional side of the gig can feel self-indulgent. All the dinners and drinks greatly outweigh the time spent with fans, people who actually read my book and want to talk about it.

Yet, here I am, on my way back home, the start of another school week looming first thing Monday morning.

Was it worth it? Will I make the same choice again?

I don’t know if it was worth it, but I do know I will make different choices next time. I’ll drive instead of fly. I’ll rest more, and I won’t get to the Jackson airport three hours ahead of my departure.

If you’re wondering why I arrived so early, it’s because I caught a ride with Lauren Groff. Lauren writes out of Gainesville, Florida. Her books have been shortlisted for the National Book Award multiple times. She was the headliner for the whole festival.

So, when given the option of a couple extra hours of sleep or a 30-minute ride to the airport with one of my literary heroes — I chose the latter.

Over the course of that short ride, I told Lauren about my time playing American football in Sweden, and she told me how she manages being a mother of two, a wife, and a bestselling author.

In short, she and her husband are very pragmatic with how they split their familial duties. They make the most of their time. They have a system, and they stick to it, which all made a great deal of sense to a former football coach/quarterback.

I’m at the end of the column, and somehow, I still have time to spare. There are exactly twenty minutes before boarding starts. There are also a hundred other tasks I could tackle, but instead I reach for my phone and dial my wife’s number, excited to tell the kids Daddy’s coming home early!