“her own identity?” I thought you were a guy and you lived with a womajn
How dreary — to be — Somebody!
How public — like a Frog —
To tell one’s name — the livelong June —
To an admiring Blog!
I couldn’t agree more. The hell with being public; let us move forward into the hermitic & hermetic & hemeneutic. PERI HERMĒNEIAS
Just back from Reno, because for the past few years I’ve been a proud recipient of the Bust Your Ass During School Breaks Fellowship... this morning I got up at seven and the snowy hills were pink and a jay scolded me for leaving footprints in the snow. Berkeley is the same; the cat, who was sick, is coping; I have a reading list a mile long and a will as strong as ever, only not quite ready to hand. I rolled it up and stashed it somewhere so it would fit on the plane.
People at the next table are talking about a novel that one of them is publishing, about changes forced by agents and editors. Maybe better just to do it for love and leave it in a shoebox.
