i don't quite know what to do with myself today. i wish i had these shoes--i would just sit and stare at my own feet. i've sent my manuscript to my agent. she will divulge an opinion, which will probably be somewhat cryptic and maddeningly calm. until then, however, i am free to read. making my way through the george saunders book. finishing to kill a mockingbird for the third time because e is reading it and i wanted to be fresh for conversation. atticus, scout, jem and cal are just about the four most lovable characters i know. i'm reading slowly, looking for the book's joints and seams. it makes me happy when i spot one, when i can almost imagine being harper lee and making the choices that would wind up creating such a moving, graceful book. this reminder--that all books come from people--makes me love people more than i might.
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