Hey, anybody in the market for an overwrought memoir of a TV camera-toting nobody? A rollicking account of one lenslinger's journey from starry-eyed scanner hound to all-weather auteur? The tortured manifesto of a photog facing forty? A blithering collection of half-baked blog posts? A slim volume of scribbled song lyrics and Guatamalan coffee cup rings? Anybody? Anybody? Bueller?
Okay, so it's still in the raw data/fantasy stage, but I'm pretty sure it'll hit bookstores by early 2017. (Look for it in your local discount bin shortly thereafter...)