Here we are both of us refreshed and repowered. I needed the rest, too. I have been working very hard to try to make sense of my screenplay, the one I have written over the last 7 months with that screenwriting course. I hope to finish it (in a manner of speaking) this weekend but before I plunge back into the depths, I caught up with yesterday's blog, to polish and correct, and now to write today's blog before I disappear.

I was thinking about my reference yesterday to Jean Kerr and all the others from an earlier generation who I cite and who taught me the little aphorisms and lessons I love so well. I'm still reading current writers and seeing current movies (but I have given up on current music). In time I'm sure today's wonders will become tomorrow's icons, but I am not sure I can identify them. I'll run a few writers by you, ones that I have been drawn to recently, and see if any of them resonate (aka ring a bell) with you.

Of course, you know I spent a lot of time this year reading Black Eagle and Grey Falcon by Rebecca West. She is already an icon so I won't dwell. Lauren Groff is a hot new American novelist whose writing skill dazzles but who, as I read more, leaves me wondering about her heart. The results aren't in yet. I've been reading more women's diaries, but that's a private, idiosyncratic pursuit I will not burden you with. Earlier this year, after I had seen the movie Arrival, I bought the book of short stories by Ted Chiang, Stories of Your Life, and Others. The movie is based on the eponymous title story. I have just finished reading the rest of it and my next word search will be triggered by Chiang - not only brilliant but also a science fiction nerd with esoteric knowledge far beyond mine.

I've started pedalling again on a stationary bicycle and the only way I can stay on it for half an hour is to read a mystery/thriller/detective story/ whatever, to hold me there. I read another one by Arnaldur Indriðason, Strange Shores, and yes, there was a murder, but it's a character-driven, mood piece. Now I have just begun my first Dennis Lehane book, Moonlight Mile. Set in Boston, several of his books have been made into movies by Clint Eastwood, winning awards in the process. I romped slowly through a Roald Dahl book, The BFG (Big, Friendly Giant) - I say slowly because I read it aloud to my son Matt. He can read functionally but he does not easily read for pleasure so I read to both of us for pleasure. His understanding is ahead of his skill. He enjoys word play and BFG is full of that.

What else? I'm sure I'll think of more - -oh yes, two of the three The Little Old Lady series, but my script awaits.

Anon, anon, and on and on...

I am still pondering a list of essay genres: "the aphoristic essay, the collaborative essay, the dramatic or dialogic essay, the polyphonic essay, the long poem as essay, the meditative essay, the personal essay as witness, the visual essay." And I came across a review in the TLS of a book of essays edited by Adam Phillips (In Writing: Essays on Literature). You know when you're thinking about something, other related ideas pop up to complement your thinking? So with the Phillips book. He cites the 19th century American essayist, Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882) commenting on the essay for its "embrace of digression, meander and experiment." (I have never used meander as a noun.) Or is that an excuse for evasiveness?

Phillips says of his own writing, "I leave lots of stuff in that I don't know what I think about it" and elsewhere, "you can't write differently, even if you want to." Not sure I approve or agree with either of those statements, especially the former as it is very bad grammar and doesn't make sense. . I may have to look up Adam Phillips. Not now.

I digress, as essays do, apparently with immunity. Women don't, can't, not with immunity. I will be accused of fuzzy thinking.

meander verb1 the river meandered gently: zigzag, wind, twist, turn, curve, curl, bend, snake. 2 we meandered along the path: stroll, saunter, amble, wander, ramble, drift,maunder; informal mosey, tootle, toodle. [toodle?! NO noun.

Okay, the collaborative essay is a joint effort whereby two people put their dual brain power into the production of one piece of copy and the dialogic essay, is just that - a dialogue. I guess there Socratic dialogue is the best example and ghee most instructive one. But polyphonic? I don't do multi-media. Don't even go there.

Now the long poem as an essay: I have done that. I wrote the introduction to my book of poetry inspired by women's diaries (The Better Half: Women'sVoices, 1995) as a poem, with quite an intricate metric pattern, one frequently used by W.H.Auden. That was fun.

I guess that most popular writers write the "personal essay, as a witness". I would call that a familiar essay, the kind that used to appear in domestic magazines. Does anyone remember Jean Kerr? ( 1922-2003). The wife of the Broadway critic, Walter Kerr, wiith six children, she was the patron saint of the suburban housewives of North America, like me. Her best-selling collection, Pleas Don't Eat the Daisies, was made into a movie, as was her hit stage comedy, Mary, Mary, to name her best-known successes that might ring a bell for you. Or maybe not.

That brings us to the visual essay. I assume this would be another multi-media effort, using visual aids to present or augment the written argument. I think that if one is not careful, the finished product might end up looking like a catalogue. Only now it's called a graphic - essay or novel. I can't read them myself. I am a very fast reader and the balloons and images distract my eyes too much so that I can't focus clearly.

Now, what would you call a blog: A blog is a log, of course.

log I will ignore definitions 1 and 3 and offer you the original definition of a blog: 2 (also logbook) an official record of events during the voyage of a ship or aircraft: a ship's log.• a regular or systematic record of incidents or observations: keep a detailed log of your activities.

Writers began to record incidents or observations on their websites and they called the record a web blog, that became a blog. . You know all this, but I have to tie up the loose end.

There, I'm finished, and just in time. I have 2% power left. Anon,anon.