kidnapped by monkeys. the monkeys won.
I visited the Small Monkeys last night and played in the dirt, and played pet the drainpipe and say its name, walk to the column pat the column and say its name, and was taught ballet, and hung The Maw upside-down by her ankles over and over again.
At one point, I asked, "What's the name of that O. Henry story? Red Chief something?" (It was "The Ransom of Red Chief." I don't remember any details of it, yet it came to mind anyway.)
Gymmed this morning since I have a lunch date, and possibly orchestra tonight if the tickets work out.
I have not yet written my synopsis. All the things I wrote down the other night, plus the poll results/comments, are being chewed upon by my backbrain. I also had a small thought on the elliptical this morning inspired by a bit of song, which is flitting in and out of my brain like a moth and may or may not amount to anything.
Also, I keep having passing thoughts about my writing career. (I just stopped myself from putting quote marks around writing career, even though the impulse was strong. Self-deprecation is so ingrained, I think even more so in women, that it takes effort to fight against it every time.) Anyway, these thoughts go in more than one direction. One relates to a historical romance, the other to a young adult book or two, one of which is partially written and the other which is a mess of characters, notes, and a few scene ideas that have been lying around for years and years. First, of course, I need to finish the second book on this contract. But after that? I am not sure yet.
This week I am feeling very parenthetical.
At one point, I asked, "What's the name of that O. Henry story? Red Chief something?" (It was "The Ransom of Red Chief." I don't remember any details of it, yet it came to mind anyway.)
Gymmed this morning since I have a lunch date, and possibly orchestra tonight if the tickets work out.
I have not yet written my synopsis. All the things I wrote down the other night, plus the poll results/comments, are being chewed upon by my backbrain. I also had a small thought on the elliptical this morning inspired by a bit of song, which is flitting in and out of my brain like a moth and may or may not amount to anything.
Also, I keep having passing thoughts about my writing career. (I just stopped myself from putting quote marks around writing career, even though the impulse was strong. Self-deprecation is so ingrained, I think even more so in women, that it takes effort to fight against it every time.) Anyway, these thoughts go in more than one direction. One relates to a historical romance, the other to a young adult book or two, one of which is partially written and the other which is a mess of characters, notes, and a few scene ideas that have been lying around for years and years. First, of course, I need to finish the second book on this contract. But after that? I am not sure yet.
This week I am feeling very parenthetical.