Day 12: Helmetless

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Words written: 4,596
Moments where I've been certain I will pitch head first off the bike: 7

This morning, I read over the pages from the week before, and found that they weren't as incoherent as I feared. Every day is like this unraveling of a longer scroll, because I keep adding and not taking anything away. I'm going to let myself do this until July 15, and then I will buckle down and start taking it apart. It's interesting how certain threads start to tie together. I wrote this sentence about how she moves her whole life from place to place in just three suitcases, leaving things behind every time. I knew what was in two of the suitcases, but the third was a mystery. Another day, I figured out what might be in the third suitcase and how it could tie back into her childhood. So much of writing is trying to trust that your subconscious mind has a plan or can juggle the pieces and find the thread. And you can read all the John Gardner you want, but if you don't know how to write a sentence or render a scene, you're in trouble. I have lots and lots of scenes that won't make it, but I'll parse them out and see if they can work in a different story. I keep adding dogs and cats to my story, for example, and have no idea if they belong. 


Speaking of cats, these are on display at the Montauk library in the basement. 

Chap has no fear of ticks, even with the recent Lyme's disease outbreak. 

This is Chap's partner. She has just had a bath in the outdoor shower. 

This is the only woman in the world who can pull of the shorts pantsuit, no problem. 

This is the lovely Raluca, who rides bikes with me every day (when not injured)

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