Here’s one of the great unrequited loves of my life Frank Rich’s column in Truthout so it’s not a Select piece. i know The Times is losing subscribers, but many of us pay $500 a year. We should really be able to link the articles. I guess I can copy them and put them in the sidebar.
Sometimes commenting can really change a mood. Acton Bell’s posts always make me laugh. Oh sorry, didn’t know you meant them seriously. It was also the first time I commented on a comment. My knight in shining dawg, Doug, has sharpened his commenting claws…
My best friend tells me that writing is solitary by definition. Yes, I know that.
It was fun to focus on blogging because it’s interactive. I could tell myself that my writing was improving. I could tell myself a lot of things.
I’m trying to finish a complete first draft of Electric Haired Chic: A Memoir in the form of Fiction by Memorial Day, and I have rediscovered something about myself. I need face-to-face interaction, often, with friends and family.
I don’t even mind talking on the phone anymore and I considered it to be a great intrusion. I still do if it’s a telemarketer, any political or issue group, etc. If a real person calls, they will a get half hour, at least.
It’s another day where the sun keep tries trying to make an appearance. I need sun and warm weather.
I tried forcing myself to write the ungodly number of words I make myself write every day, for my book, and just couldn’t. I’m in need of intense socialization.
Unfortunately people do make plans in advance, or I haven’t been in touch, or….
This book is something that I have been working on for four years but couldn’t figure out the structure until recently. I have other books pretty much written, but this is the one that’s meaningful to me. Fiction is freeing in anything but this book.
I keep telling myself to change my high school boyfriend to somebody more interesting, and who isn’t a Mack truck driver. He wasn’t very interesting.
But I’m pretty sure I’m the only person in the history of my Long Island suburb whoever had a date pick her up in a large truck or any, probably, many times.
There’s nothing wrong with big truck; it was the world I came from that had the false values. And yes I rubbed it in.
I don’t regret it but am not as enamored with myself as I was for far too long.
I have never felt like giving up. I do today.
If I give up I will spend the rest of my life wondering and feeling incomplete because this was such an important part of my life.
The sun actually did come out just now, as in a blue sky, so I’m out of here. Unfortunately the sun itself didn’t serve as a mood elevater. I’m hoping a walk will do it.
Feel like my whole life is a battle for sun, and we’re in the midst of global warming so it’s selfish and unfair of me.
I went to B&N and bought books. Books that you devour in one sitting, and kind of wish you had read in the store.
It’s gorgeous out. Incredibly beautiful. I now know what 62 degrees feels like 62 degrees feels like. It feels good
I wrote this entire post because I wasn’t going to let a title like that go to waste