The packets are nearly all assembled, I finished draft two of the bees. It was a hard edit and I was totally a baby about it first thing in the morning.
I need time with edits. I need the chance to look them over and get comfortable with them before having to talk about them, I think. By the end of today, I was looking forward to thinking about and acting on information that was unwelcomed in the morning (especially unfortunate for my thoughtful and attentive editor).
My brain has been spinning about what I want to write next. I really wanted to submit to Creative Nonfiction's "Night" contest, but I don't think now that I'll have time. I'm still going to try and at least put something together. I have also started thinking about how I might want to go about my literary criticism paper for KSU. I want to talk about Diane Ackerman and hummingbirds, about truth and fact, and about the responsibility of an essayist vs a poet to write not just truth, but also fact. Maybe. Could I make that a ten page paper?
This happened last year, and I can't stop it from happening again, but I have been allowing myself to envision a next year reality where I am in school, focusing on writing and classes. It's dangerous stuff considering the likelihood that my heart will be broken again. It is hard to balance the desire to have a back-up plan and the desire to spend my energy right now doing what I can to make my first choice happen.
If you want to read 15 pages about bees, drop me a line and I will email you a copy. If you don't, I'll still love you.
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