Okay. I give up. Indian Summer has proved to have more lives than Rasputin. Just when I’d gone and stuck a sprig of holly through its heart, here it came again, warm and sunny and flexing its muscles. Another gorgeous day.
Progress on a new draft this morning. Feels like a story that may find its way into the world sooner than most. But we’ll see. Been working to keep distractions at bay, while at the same time keeping an open, and critical, mind. I believe writing is a craft where you can never be too hard on yourself. The trick is to consume whatever bitterness your force down your own throat in measured doses, then give it time to do it’s work.
Received a note (and page proofs) today from the editor of the Bi-lingual Review. They’d accepted a story of mine, “Mano a Mano,” some number of years ago, and I’d all but given up on seeing it published. Nice to know it’s still alive. Now to let them know I’ve already seen and approved the page proofs—back in 2006. Can it really have been that long?