Morning showed up much too early today – at 5 AM, in fact. The dog, eager to move. Not I, so I indulged in a fantasy life wherein no external obligations impinged on my morning off. The fantasy carried me all the way to 5:30 AM after which I went outside and kept a distant eye of the dog so she wouldn’t swallow too many poisonous items. Said poisonous (or intentionally poisoned) scraps put a real damper on pleasant strolls with a canine. Some folks around here put out poisoned rice against the pigeons, others poisoned meat against cats, dogs, rats, mice, whatever.
No poisoned bait ingested this morning. I indulged further by napping on the couch, then reading one of Deborah Eisenberg’s short stories titled Robbery. Now, at almost 9 AM, I’ve opened the shutters at last, and am giving slow thought to the day’s activities.
There’s a somewhat disjointed, suspended feeling at play. For once, after finishing a piece of writing, I’m not in a state of bereavement, but neither am I clear on what happens next out in the story world. Real life keeps providing fresh material – no problem there. But stories don’t spring up just because events suggest themselves as likely contenders.
As for taking on the synopsis/query letter business…the haze that rolls into my head reminds me of someone’s definition of laziness as the universal remedy against useless work. While querying may not be useless, it definitely feels like homework, something there’s no lack of in my life.
Friday morning off. A fresh supply of Badoit to buy at the downtown mini-mart. Plants to water, floor to sweep while listening to music in my head. A fond nod to Camilleri’s Inspector Montalbano because some fictional characters provide a sense of family. From one book to the next, you know how Montalbano will react, you know desk officer Catarella will bang Montalbano’s door against the wall while delivering phone messages he’s gotten wrong. You know the rich and powerful will win but die anyway. And while Montalbano angsts and searches out the answers, you know he’ll eat first-rate Sicilian foodstuffs.
Friday morning off. The pace is bound to quicken soon enough.