Another day of pushing my body through time and space. I drove to Boston with a friend - well, I didn't drive, but I empathised with the driver for TWELVE HOURS. It was a long drive but I ended up with loved ones. Now, today, it's a lovely rainy day and there's a fire iin the fireplace. My son-in-law is a pyromaniac like me, I'm happy to say.
The conversation over that long drive was stimulating and revealing and inspiring. I get ideas and insights from my friend and mentor and I give him more understanding and patience than he receives from others, more than he realises. Hr sounds like a cynic and a misanthrope but he is really naive and soft-hearted, more than he realises.
- or would it?
Anyway, I have my next book in mind - after my play reading in NYC, and after my fourth draft of the screenplay based on my partner's book, and after finishing the screenplay I wrote during my course, and after polishing the cozy mystery I wrote (new names, better descriptions), and after selling (I WISH!) my memoir on ageing, with an epilogue to be written.
I should worry about green bananas?