Day 5 and Still Alive

Words written today: 4,688
Pop Tarts eaten: 0
Times I've check the Post or NYT: 1, just to make sure the world isn't about to be blown up
Visits to the library: 1

Last night, we went out to the dunes to watch fireworks--all five of us and Shannon drove in her speedy little car. We watched them near this place where there are important rock formations. I read the placard, but recall nothing but that they were called Hoodoos, and that's the same name of the place where I got my hamburger. At one point, a random dude hopped over the fence to be on the same strip of sand, made a phone call, and then left. Like, you have the whole island. On the trail back, we had to light our way with our phones, and no one fell down. 

Today, I rode to the public library with Raluca, a nonfiction writer from Romania who lives in the Bronx (I think?). I like her a lot. She got her MFA from Columbia, and has been to another residency in Nebraska to a place called the Art Farm, where you have to work the farm for four hours in the morning and then you can write or paint or whatever. The place was very rustic, no roof except for a tarp (I believe that's what they were building while she was there). She told me a story about a writing classmate of hers who is also a doctor, and how one day, they had to dissect penises. Like, the lab instructor brought in buckets of penises and then they laid them out on lab trays to get the lay of the land. 

The library was beautiful and the best thing about it is that they have computers you can use, so I was able to write more than half of my words there. I use an online platform called 750, and it counts your words for you. The computer timed out after an hour, but then kept letting me have additional fifteen minute increments. I also found an anatomy book and looked at pictures of the brain, to try to see if it would inspire me in some way (the story I'm writing is about a transplant coordinator, so she has brains on the brain). I also read through an EMT training book that offered multiple choice questions like: 

The Bloods and the Crips are the names of:
a. An eighties rock band
b. A new type of potato chip in Great Britain
c. Something you do while vacationing in Australia
d. Street gangs

In the afternoon, I came back to the Barn and wrote some more, and then typed up everything to see if I made my word count. I have this pretty phony scene about a woman being brought in after her husband beats her to death, and he's the only one who can give consent for her organs. Lots of potential problems with the scene, because I have no idea of the criminal end of an investigation like that; or if legally, the guy who murdered his wife would have the opportunity to then give consent for her organs. I'm going to ask my friend Jenny, whose husband is a detective, to figure that one out. I also need to talk to some real transplant coordinators because I am mostly winging a lot of things. For example, in the above scenario, it would probably take a couple of days for them to determine brain death, and yet I have the guy in handcuffs in her hospital room, about to be taken down the station. Sounds far-fetched. 

We are surrounded by nature, and most of us here are obsessed with ticks. I worry about Chap because his favorite thing to do is roll around in the grass (even better if he can roll around in deer scat), and he seems itchier than usual. I keep spraying him with this stuff I brought, but I feel guilty about bringing him, because he seems confused about what the hell we're doing here. 

Find the bird in this picture.