Trying to jot a few thoughts before lunch. Each day sorta goes in a whirl. I just screwed up my courage and called an agent that I sent my shipwreck story to back in December to let him know I would be submitting (how I hate that word) simultaneously to some other agents. Just a courtesy call, I didn't even need to talk with him, just leave the message. I hate that at 55 I am still fearful of calling people that I don't know. I used to get my older sister to call my best friend, Martha, because I was afraid somebody else in her family might answer. And why didn't I tell that lady in the grocery store exactly what I thought when she stated that the heap of white flour, sugar, and trans-fat she was buying was for her grandkids, then asked for three packs of cigarettes and gave the "cool" advertising gimmick card on the back to the young cashier?
What else did I accomplish this a.m.? Oh yeah, an email to my researcher in Pittsburgh who has invited me to have lunch when I go there to hear her talk and see The Horse exhibit at the Carnegie Museum at the end of the month. Yoga and a walk in the woods. And maybe a tiny breakthrough in a plot idea, although nothing on paper.
Library Sale to set up this afternoon. Well, it's a good cause, especially in this part of the state with its appalling illiteracy rate.
Oh, and I finished Jay Asher's Thirteen Reasons Why this morning. It's an important and compelling read. I'll donate it to Whitesville Central School in memory of my cousin Peter. I don't believe we've had any suicides here (ever?) but that doesn't mean we should not be watching our kids (and friends and selves) and ready to act and reach out when people need emotional help.
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