I understand that TinyLetters are the now the order of the day and maybe at some point I’ll be moved to start one, but right now I just want to pretend it’s that time when we’re all still semi-regularly blogging, commenting on each other’s posts, and apologizing for how long it’s been since our last entries.
Sorry it’s been so long since my last entry!
I’m reposting this photo of my cat from 2006, when he was a tiny kitten who sometimes hid behind books and sometimes managed to crawl into the silverware drawer, because I almost lost it and 112 other photos that only existed within the LiveJournal archives I nearly deactivated. It got me thinking about how I used to do more documenting here; I’d talk about travel and events, and share recipes and photos from thrifting and estate sales and odd things I saw on the street.
And writing; I used to write more about what I was writing.
But at some point I got so I didn’t want to write about how I had no idea how long it was going to take me to finish the work in progress, and it seemed like if I didn’t have some new writing to promote, or some vulnerable, heartfelt insights about the difficulties I was having in finishing the writing that, ideally, eventually I’d be promoting, it was better not to say anything.
I haven’t, in point of fact, finished the work in progress, but I think, I think, I’m closing in on a draft. I just had three days’ worth of writing retreat at the lovely place wherein I saw the sunset in the photo to the right.
It’s starting to feel like a book.
What else has been happening? Five things:
- I sewed new cuffs onto an old beloved hoodie.
2. I visited what I used to call the Usual Undisclosed Location, and found comfort, again, in one of the places I go every time I’m there.
3. I visited friends in Chicago and appreciated their neighborhood.
4. I know I’m quite late to this party but I finally got on the N.K. Jemisin train via the Dreamblood duology. I highly recommend them: beautifully complex worldbuilding, nuanced, flawed characters, and, as this interviewer praises, her ability to write so well about power, oppression and pain.
5. Via Twitter I learned that someone at some point scissored out a panel from a library copy of Bad Houses; this was the panel in question:
You never do, do you?