I've been thinking about writing a lot. I've been writing only a little. I've been thinking about starting work on a novel; I haven't typed a single word. Last night I told Martin, "Why do it when there are plenty of people who have already done it well? And most of them I haven't even read yet!" I've also been meaning to start a writing group with students since I'm not teaching this semester. I ran into a student in the University hallway--straight from home, I was in my "plain clothes" of course--stained shirt, house sweater, comfy cordoroys, my hair hanging about my face--and Bea, though she was dressed, had left her coat at home and was in socks with no shoes (she did have a blister on her toe, by the way). I chatted with the student for a bit and then the writing group came up. "Yes," I said, "I will organize it. I plan to get serious again in. . .um. Four days."

The days are passing quickly with no signs of seriousness from me yet, though at least I've started blogging again.

It was certainly encouraging to find a review online of my short story, "Patron Saint of Trees," by Nichole Reber at her site, "The Review Review." You can read my very first review HERE.

Next week I will gather in my energy and be serious again. That gives me--let's see--about four days more. Perfect.