I didn’t have a particularly literary day, unless you count going to Marshall’s, Home Depot and Trader Joe’s cause for a sonnet. I’m leaving tomorrow for the Tin House Conference. In preparation, I bought a new shirt and two bras at Marshall’s. I hope this will make me appear more perky than I feel.

I may not be able to post again until I’m back on Thursday, unless my plane crashes. In this case, I have left eleven poems, three screenplays, a third of a manuscript about my eighty-three year old pottery teacher, clay and loneliness, and thirty or more scorching diaries. I also have every letter I’ve ever received, including nearly fifty from someone in high school I never loved well enough, which I planned to use as the basis for a young adult novel. I ‘m sure I would love posthumous fame were I around to enjoy it.

**Don’t talk foolishness (from Hooray for Yiddish)

Filed under: The End of the World as We Know It |