Confession Tuesday
Happy Tuesday, folks. Share a little of yourself with and we will try to do the same.
Another snowy day in New England. However, tomorrow the temps will rise to almost 60 degrees. Hello, climate change.
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I had planned to get up at 4 a.m., spend some quality time writing and revising poems, and blogging every hour with real time updates. Instead, I went to bed at 2 a.m. after re-reading Tom Perrotta's The Leftovers, Nikky Finney's Head Off and Split, and Natasha Trethewey's Thrall. I don't know what got into me.
So now I am sitting at my desk completely drained from teaching classes. Couldn't even finish my lunch. What the heck was I thinking? Oh well, will try again tomorrow.
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I did manage to make it to the Salem Athenaeum to write before class. I'm also plotting out my next book. The poems are waiting. They are sitting in the soil like tulips waiting for spring.
Unfortunately, I can see the new poems as a book-length project, which is not what I'm looking for. But I'm giving the Muse a little latitude these days. It's been so long since she's visited I don't want to scare her off. I do have the week planned out out with poems and drafts in my head, which is a good sign for things to come.
****
I'm brain dead today. I need a nap like I need plasma.
Another snowy day in New England. However, tomorrow the temps will rise to almost 60 degrees. Hello, climate change.
****
I had planned to get up at 4 a.m., spend some quality time writing and revising poems, and blogging every hour with real time updates. Instead, I went to bed at 2 a.m. after re-reading Tom Perrotta's The Leftovers, Nikky Finney's Head Off and Split, and Natasha Trethewey's Thrall. I don't know what got into me.
So now I am sitting at my desk completely drained from teaching classes. Couldn't even finish my lunch. What the heck was I thinking? Oh well, will try again tomorrow.
****
I did manage to make it to the Salem Athenaeum to write before class. I'm also plotting out my next book. The poems are waiting. They are sitting in the soil like tulips waiting for spring.
Unfortunately, I can see the new poems as a book-length project, which is not what I'm looking for. But I'm giving the Muse a little latitude these days. It's been so long since she's visited I don't want to scare her off. I do have the week planned out out with poems and drafts in my head, which is a good sign for things to come.
****
I'm brain dead today. I need a nap like I need plasma.
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