Catching up with Sweet Baby James

Catching up on some neglected details. Going to Carolina in my mind with James Taylor singing Carolina; one Westie at my side snoozing between laptop and mouse pillow, the other, snoozing prone, on the family-room couch. Blog, website, edit text, another online job application, and tea. Gotta have tea, or a good cup of coffee.

Wondering what to write next, now that my manuscript–complete except for the epilogue–sits in a drawer.

Stephen King writes a first draft as it comes into his mind, without interference from anyone, including himself. Get the basic story down on paper…,”says King. “Good fiction always begins with story and progresses to theme-almost never from theme to story.” After his first draft is written, he thinks about the meaning of what he just wrote and fleshes out subsequent drafts with his conclusions (Stephen King on Memoir, p. 208).

I look on Craig’s List under jobs: writing and gigs. A business plan, short stories, photographs, poems. My mind is weary and flat like  soda without the fizz. Not sure where to begin.

I’ve seen fire, I’ve seen rain, I’ve seen sunny days, thought they never end…lonely days when I could not find a friend James Taylor sings strumming.

Nostalgia, like a former friend, fills me with my teenage years, the late sixties when James Taylor–hair thick and dense–was the heart throb.

And I didn’t have a friend.


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