At last!

Hello to everyone! I'm terribly sorry it's been awhile. First the blog was down and then, very sad news, Jeff's dad passed away. The last few weeks we've been with family, so blogging just wasn't going to happen. The Jeffrey is holding up well, as well as a person can when they lose their dad; thoughts for Jeff & his family are more than welcome. You guys are always so great about sending good wishes & vibes, and we always appreciate it. Anyway, thoughts to the Jeff.

Who now has a wretched cold and is a snotty little beast. Poor rat.

Meanwhile: I'm on a writing jag. Very inconveniently, people, it's poetry. What am I thinking? I have a novel to write, and the agent & I just might be plotting another nonfiction—I probably mentioned it, but it is VERY nascent at the moment, and who knows if it will go anywhere. Point being: I should be kicking out the fiction, and I've been bombarded by the poetry instead.

Note: No, I will  not post any of it on here. Sorry!! But I can't—unpublished and therefore still uncopywritten, so no go. I'll let you know on the cold day in hell when I actually put it out there. In the meantime, I'm scribbling day and night. NO, NOT day and night, for those of you who worry yourselves silly about whether I'm getting enough sleep. I am, I assure you. Just hopping up early to get the scribbles down. I've spat out twelve new poems, or what might be poems, or what might be garbage, in the last month (one never knows), and I'm not sure the whole flood is done. I'm just at the edge of being ready to edit them into some kind of shape, with the help of the infamous Readers (esp the lovely Amanda, poet of Fargo, with whose work I'm madly in love—will post her blog if she'll let me—and the beloved Lora, poet of New York). By the way, turns out Fargo, North Dakota, has this shockingly hopping art scene—who knew? Art galleries, midnight readings—I only wish Minneapolis was so hot at the moment. It's gotten a little stuffy recently, but is picking up, especially the theater scene. Very cool. Just saw a production of Midsummer Night's Dream at the Guthrie—a completely wild take on it, and was transfixed, and got in a jolly argument with a friend who absolutely hated it. I love this stuff.

Reading at the moment: poetry. Of course. Someone start me a new poetry list. I'm running low, and have recently developed an annoyance, born of over-exposure, about some oldies I usually love. I need new blood.

Poetry having overtaken my writing time for the moment, it's also having that effect I love: woke up the other morning with two new scenes/sketches for the novel. Whee! You guys have no idea how heavenly it is to be back to work after tour. My life is now very dull; I get up and write, then I go to bed, with a few other things in between. I love life.

Have been hearing from readers, and appreciate all the letters so much. I do need to remind people, tho, that with the volume of mail, I just can't respond to it all. Also, I would gently remind folks that I can't take up personal correspondences and ongoing contact with readers.

I'm up in Detroit Lakes, Minnesota, which I know I mentioned last summer, in the fabulous/extremely weird Sunflower Cafe, which is somehow always staffed by about fourteen people, none of whom seem to be able to make a cappucino in under 15 minutes. I am cultivating patience and zen-ness. This is my father's family's old haunts, and reminds me of being a kid and running around all over town and leaping in the lake. The north is a gorgeous place in summertime, and everyone looks overjoyed to be wearing shorts. It's lovely to be up here, and I'll be heading back up from the city several more weekends this summer—will post from my favorite Sunflower Cafe table & let you know what's up.

Have missed you all, and many, many thanks for the great ongoing discussions on the board. You rock.

Cheers,
M