Silly Wabbit. Our race is an illusion. We've been running in place this whole time.
Then Humpty Dumpty had a great fall, and the dish ran away with the spoon.
You and your silly tightropes, thinking you're above it all, preening in imagined spotlights, your spirals are knots you've tied yourself, your wire, mere thread.
Is it time to take out your wholecloth and fashion anew?
Or do I piece her back together and pray the music will come?
Katherine wants to be a nice quiet librarian and share our passion for books and intellectual freedom.
KD exceeded our expectations, filled the boots we once thought were so daring, but for all her bravado, she's been wounded in battle and is MIA. Her guitar has turned to lead and it made her cry.
Kathy? Forget it. She's always crying.
She can not take over anything except children, dogs, and pretty things like flowers which is her department anyway.
Mom appears when summoned.
Angel, Delilah and Gypsy Nurse took off.
Somebody's going to have to rise to the occasion and deal with this world and get us some place. I need to be able to pay my basic living expenses .
This can't be impossible.
It just can't. I have too much done that I believe in.
I am stalled.
I need to put energy into finding an agent.
Consistent energy.
I try here and there, here and there, and get rejected and go back to the part I love instead of pushing to find someone who can help me get from here to there.
So there you have it: my first wish: Let me find an agent who believes in me as a writer.
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