Dear blogees, thank you for indulging me. I needed to air my insecurities yesterday and do a bit of moaning; the gremlin of self-pity jumps out every so often. As I say to my students, a certain amount of insecurity is necessary to an artist; it means you'll struggle to improve, to push higher. It's just important that the critical voice isn't so harsh, it shuts you down. As Wayson used to say, "Do not be silenced!"
Yes sir. Wish you were here. You'd have loved all this prep for the book launch.
It was a beautiful summer day, and there was no renovation on any side - just breezes, birdsong, the regular city hum. I did Gina's line dancing class for the first time in ages - good for the brain as well as the bod, where DO these feet go? And then Jason came, we set ourselves up outside and got to work. These are the things a writer needs to do these days: set up a Goodreads page for the new book. Set up an Amazon author page. Discuss how to revise this website and what the Zoom launch will entail. Prepare the email blasts to go out soon. Send out a MailChimp newsletter about the book to nearly 400 former students. And more.
The online planet is more important than ever. Even so, I just can't get the hang of posting constantly on social media. So be it. But if readers want to find me or my work, we made it easier today.
And then I went to buy rosé and groceries for my trip tomorrow with Ruth to her cottage near Gravenhurst. Oh I can't wait to be in that tranquil house on an island, surrounded by trees and water, with my dear friend. I'm bringing a bit of work, yes. But mostly I want to read and sit and digest where I am now and what's next. Last time I was there, I sat under an umbrella by the water and read Middlemarch; it was heaven. Must find a weighty tome to bring this time, along with the usual New Yorkers.
The Democratic convention is barrelling on; the little I've seen feels perfect. The question is - why is it necessary to work so @#$# hard to convince people? As David Sedaris said with his usual humorous brilliance, this election is like a stewardess asking if you want the chicken or the plate of shit filled with ground glass, and some have to take time to decide, hmm, which should I choose? Let me ponder.
While I'm gone, Nicole will be here, taking care of Anna's cat and the house. Here's what my new friend Naan thinks of my busy days, as she flops on my daytimer. I love having a cat around again. She yowls piteously, just like me.
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