Many Words in the Woods

The house sale is boring me. I can only imagine what it's doing to you. I've been waiting for the crab apple tree to burst into bloom so I can post a photo. In the meantime ...

I feel like a writer these days. I try and usually succeed in putting in several hours a day. Some of this time I use for sending query letters to agents. This has been a frustrating task, not so much because of the kind rejections but because it takes me away from real writing.

My book is getting fatter as I add an essay each week. If I don't find an agent, I will self-publish and go from there. I'm trying one more ploy to find an agent by submitting a story I wrote about our dogs. The title is P.E.I. (Prince Edward Island) but as I was writing it, it became clear that it was a story about our five bouviers and life in general.

Now, where do I send it? Naturally I want to be published in something highbrow like The Paris Review but Yankee Magazine might be more suitable. I will do my research and see where I might be able to sell it. I've never received a penny for my published work. It's time I do.

My goal for the morning is to send out the story. Then I will have a massage to knead out the kinks and restore some balance to my crooked body. After that, who knows. Maybe I'll go through some of the boxes in the basement or return the shirt I bought for Mariel to go on her interview. She wore my dress instead and I gave it to her.

Carpe diem.