For the book TOGO, I returned to Alaska, this time to the bush country. I kept track of the experience in my journals and I will be sharing that will you in this space.

It all begins now, on the train ride home from New York. My editor has just agreed that Togo's story will make a good book. As I am riding home, I look out the window at people getting off the train. They seem so unexcited. I am glad that I have an exciting job.

In 1925, my main character Togo was part of a relay that carried a life saving serum to Nome. He ran over 350 miles and then the serum was put on other sleds to bring the it into the city. Togo's team ran far more than any other relay team, 350 miles. In fact, many say that he ran so hard that he wasn't able to run ever again. But a dog named Balto got all the credit because he was the lead dog of the final relay team- a team that only carried the serum 53 miles- but the team that actually came into Nome with it. I wonder if anyone else on the train knows about Togo?

I'll guess that nobody else on this train has a sketchbook. And not a one of them is thinking about their trip to Alaska to research a book. Oh yeah, the book....it will not be as easy as it sounds. Who was Togo? What will I say about him? O o p s I'll stop writing now, it's difficult to w r i t e on a moving train.

Packing is annoying. I'll need a list:SOCKS, SHOES, BOOTS, gloves hat ...what else do you think I will need? I will be staying overnight at people's homes, also sometimes in schools...even in clasrooms...sleeping on the floor sometimes. Will the schools be spooky at night? List: BRING FLASHLIGHT.

At Newark Airport it is very hot. Cell phones are ringing, babies are crying, people are sleeping across seats and someone is dribbling a basketball. Our plane will be late and that's making the other travelers cranky. I won't get crabby, I'll just draw. Time always goes fast when I draw. And sure enough, we're boarding the plane before I can finish the drawing.

Boarding the plane, I kept going back, back, baaaack. Oh no- the very last seat on the plane. The guy in the first seat looks unfriendly. He IS unfriendly. He sighs, doesn't want to let me in! I push by his knees, he says, "Sheesh!" and I sit down. He asks for a blanket and puts it over his head. I am in Seattle now, and that grouchy guy has flown for six hours with a blanket over his head. THAT'S worth putting in a sketchbook.

It takes a very long time to fly from New Jersey to Alaska. I spent most of my time working on sketches for my new story. I tried to imagine the places I was going to- Nome, Solomon, Unalakleet, Koyuk, Golovin. What would they look like? What would the people be like?