I read one exceptional book (Bonds of Brass by Emily Skrutskie ) this last week and am reading another exceptional book (Late to the Party by Kelly Quindlen). Reading exceptional books is a two-sided coin: half elating that words can fucking do that thing to you and half despair that my writing feels far away from the authors I love.
The only way to close the gap is to practice (aka, to do that writing thing every day) which, um, didn’t happen that much but here are some sentences that if you squint look like I’m piecing together an actual story. Don’t worry my beautiful queer cross country babies — I will get you on the page yet.
- 4/28: I heard the cry come from upstairs.
- 4/29: Budge over.
- 4/30: So much for not overdoing it.
- 5/1: I expect her to pick it up, but she holds steady.
- 5/2: She carefully folds the washcloth before placing it on my forehead.
- 5/3: She’s not coming.
- 5:4: I pop a few into my mouth.
With Love,
Natalie