The big, chubby, brand-new news of the week is the arrival of my best friend’s baby!  I think/hope I have been conferred honorary aunt status.  To say I’m excited would be an understatement.  I’ll get to meet the little squirt on Sunday, and I’m sure we will be the best of friends, if he’s anything like his parents.

I was excitedly awaiting the aforementioned news while getting headshots taken in Pullen Park.  Yes, you read that correctly.  I needed a picture for the Five Glass Slippers anthology, and my mother talked me into getting it done properly instead of taking a selfie.  She has a point, though.  I’m hoping to use these suckers for everything for the next ten years.  I’ll post one on here once I get them back from the long-suffering photographer, who didn’t mind me leaping at my phone every time it buzzed innocuously, hoping it was baby news.  It wasn’t.  It was my dentist.  SO anticlimactic.

Other highlights of the week included lunch at Neomonde‘s and a walk in the arboretum with friends, hot chocolate and macaroons with more friends at La Farm, and dinner with friends at Mellow Mushroom.  This makes my life sound very eventful, but all of this was squeezed into one day, so it’s all an illusion.  The rest of the week consisted of me bashing my head against the brick wall that is Revision, attempting to get my story into publishable form.  I don’t know, folks.  We’ll see how it goes.

Naturally:

Fascinating:

Music:

Books: This week I read Working Days: The Journals of the Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck.  Anyone who doesn’t think writing is hard work should read this collection, taken from Steinbeck’s daily writing notes.  The poor man sweats bullets the whole time and pours blood, sweat, and tears into his manuscript.  Even though Steinbeck had quite a few published works by this point, he angsts constantly about how he’s not a real writer, and soon everybody is going to find it out.  He alternates between thinking his work is crap and hoping that it’s brilliant.  He has to psych himself up to write each day and most of the time ends up bullying himself into cranking out a page even though he doesn’t feel like it.  In short, he expresses the rollercoaster of emotions that every writer seems to go through during the writing process, and I felt tremendously encouraged by that.  His excitement when his wife came up with the perfect title for the manuscript he’d been slaving over for months was touching and so…relatable.  Hey, I know that feeling!  This is a great read for fans of Steinbeck, or for any writer, regardless of whether they enjoy Steinbeck’s works.

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