I said a few days ago that I became a man when I got up and walked out of a dental cleaning that was too painful to endure. But last night my dentist left a message on my machine asking me to call to discuss the "incident." I don't wanna call him. I don't wanna talk to him about it. I have my therapist for talking about things.
But my husband says if I'm a man, I have to call him back. What do you think?
After bemoaning the critiques of my writing group for 24 hours, I rewrote the first chapter and guess what, it's better. I was locked into the idea that the novel had to start where the short story did bit it made no sense to start there in light of 200 pages to work with instead of 20.
Hats off to Laura Lippman for What the Dead Know, a terrific book. I read it more quickly than I've read anything in a long time. Compelling yes, but also pithy, meaty and beautifully written.
The Sopranos. What a sad and touching death for Johnny Sack. Only The Sopranos' writers could make you mourn the death of a scumbag. Although his love for his family always made him transcend the rest of them.
Last week I thought Bobby might take Tony out. This week it could be Chris who whacks him.
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