Saturday, March 25, 2017

I may have found a way to begin writing about my uncle. Copying out Carruth helped, as it so often does . . . though for reasons that are unclear to me. Not that reasons matter. What matters is finding a frame and a sound and an open door.

Overall, yesterday was a good day. I was delighted to watch the Republicans' health-care bill crash and burn. And as I was humming over that debacle, I received an email from the editor of a very famous press, inviting me to submit a Chestnut Ridge proposal. That was an amazing moment. I doubt very much the press will end up taking the book, but getting onto its radar felt like a miracle in itself.

So this morning I will work on that proposal. And this afternoon I will teach an essay workshop. For now I am watching rainwater drip from the balcony, watching seawater crepitate under a pallid sky. Out of sight, the interstate growls and barks, an incessant rubble of noise. There is no silence here. Nonetheless, solitude remains.


Maureen said...

So delighted for you, Dawn, re 'Chestnut Ridge'.

I, too, was grateful for the demise of that horrible health care bill. It deserved what it received.

Dawn Potter said...

Thanks, Maureen. At least a few editors are looking at it, and that's more than I've gotten for a while.

And I was dancing about the health-care bill. It needed to go down in flames.

Carlene said...

I love the word crepitate.

And yay, I'm so glad people are becoming more aware and interested in the ms. It is really honest, good work...