Words written: 4,093
Number of books accidentally stolen from the public library: 1, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers which I was flipping through because I mentioned it in my writing today. Also, the dog who belongs the the caretaker and his wife is named after her.
Number of times the neighbor dog, Murphy, has shown up to wreck havoc and pee on everything and try to hump poor Talluka: 2
Today was like yesterday and the day before. Got up, made coffee that was too strong, ate mini-wheats, and wrote for a little while outside. Later, Raluca and I got a ride with Ilyse/Sunset to town where we ordered $5 cold coffees and I purloined two plastic spoons, the better to scoop Chap's disgusting wet food with. Then we walked to the library, where I have a favorite carrel (#5) and I printed up the pages to date, distressing the librarian because I had said I printed 46 but she counted 49 and then they kept printing. Still, it's only ten cents a page, so $5 to print all the pages and then I didn't read any of them. I skimmed them to see if anything interesting was emerging, and wasn't particularly impressed. More pages today that led to me trying to figure out what the sister is like, but I don't have a clear picture in my head, except her name is Sunni and she's musical and afraid of heights. I like this one part I wrote about how the house the main character lives in used to belong to a girl who helped rescue cats, so these cats in cages keep showing up on her front step. I decided too that she should feel a little bit like a ghost, like she's not really there half the time, possibly because she has survivor's guilt as the sister is dead. Well, the sister killed herself by hanging, either when she was a kid or when the story opens, I can't decide. I think earlier. But then what do I know about suicide or having a sibling even? I guess it's similar to understanding loss, and that I can relate to, but I am not sure how the family would react, except maybe they would retreat and become ghosts themselves too. and what does this have to do with organ donation? I think it means that the surviving daughter feels like she can only work with the dead, can't handle the living. That doesn't totally work either because she would have to deal with the living in the families who are asked to donate. It's still a puzzle and to try to get closer to the truth of it every day is a struggle.
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| This is a bumblebee bumbling around the outside picnic table. |
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| This is Chap worrying that I will be leaving soon to go to the library. |
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| This is lovely Ilsye, who brought us into town and asked us if we had any compulsive activities with our work. I think going back around the same scenes and forcing myself to do 4,000 words a day is a bit compulsive. |
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| This is carrel number 5 where the magic happens. Note the corner of the book to the left, which I later (again accidentally) purloined. |
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