First off: Winter's Tale readers, don't forget to comment. It's very, very helpful for the other readers involved in the project to know that you're out there struggling alongside them. Even if you haven't finished the scene, even if you have no clear idea about what you think, push yourself to speak. Those of you who are classroom teachers know how important it is for students to strive to articulate their confusions. It's part of intellectual discovery . . . as Nick and Sheila reminded me so cogently in yesterday's post. And it's also a bond: because out there, invisible but breathing, are the other striving people who are relieved and grateful to know of your existence.

Okay, enough of this Shakespeare-reading pitch.

Today, I'm home alone again, finally, after a pleasant but noisy snow day: Paul listening to a recording of David Copperfield ("Oooh! That Uriah Heep is creepy!"), James trying to light a ballpoint pen on fire ("It's a science experiment!"), Tom eating popcorn and watching Last Year at Marienbad with the dog, me making lemon squares and wondering why I hate Last Year at Marienbad so much. It's certainly beautiful, but it's also amazingly boring. At first I thought maybe I'm just too trashy to appreciate the depths of pretentious French New Wave cinema. But then again, I do read Henry James. So what's my problem?

Anyway, back to editing and breadmaking; possibly a spate of Browning later in the afternoon, and who knows? I might write something as well.