ONLY ONE thing matters this year and i am now on its prep work. The edit has been done and the novel still clocks at 140,000 words. This will be its count because a story is finished when it is finished, not by word counts arbitrarily set by who the fuck ever. (The publishing world dictates that a first novel should be 80,000 words but my research tells me some have ignored this and succeeded). I have also written its summary and my author bio and i only need to fill out two forms. Then it is waiting time until i have to print the manuscript and make copies of it and let it loose upon the world to be judged.
TWO NIGHTS of liver maniration in alcohol with my police/criminal/lawyer friends when copious amounts of notes were secured. I am now ready to take on act 2 of the next novel. Really i can’t wait to open the manuscript and plunge headlong into the end when i face the long winter nights of new york.
I HAVE yet to decide on my volunteer work this year as our schedule is very volatile. If i find myself back in europe, something arts related is in order.
THE WEATHER sucks so we headed for the pool instead of the beach. It is not the same.
LONG HAIR and peace. I am keeping this mess of a hairdo as long as humanly possible this year.