Saturday, March 03, 2007


This entire week has been one of early risings (well, okay, not one morning!) in order to embrace the quiet of the morning because.... I have a new writing project which envisions a novel or a book of sorts. It's just ... all my life, I've desired and then procrastinated, desired, procrastinated. I even want to deny my actions towards this end even now, even here. The confession is hard because in some ways I'm ashamed. The shame voices of "as if!", an untoward ego ("as if!"), the echo of false starts ("as if!"), crescendo as I state. However, I can't help it. The decision has been made to myself, that I shall undergo a writing project: a book attempt. Why not? I have that English degree (as if that matters!), and, most importantly, as I, girl of about 13, kicked around in the cow lot one hot summer Ozarkian day, all glazed over from one of my numerous reads, I knew that I desired wholeheartedly to lead words into some sort of order, for some sort of reason, for some sort of joy.

Therefore, I confess and hope and arise early.

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