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For the most part, nothing terribly interesting. Notes for a letter to a friend suggesting I have a signing in his/her hometown. Maybe yes, I said, when I have a book to promote.
Though I'm sorry to tell you that the South did not [something something]. Marianne's retirement. And I have no idea what those last two words are. None whatsoever.
A list of things to do and people to write.
But down there at the bottom:
Puking up culture. That's evocative. That's what I do in my worst moments as a writer. That's what most published writing is. Not saying something interesting and new. Just puking up received culture.
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