I hate to break the news to you, but an editor may love one submission by an author and have very different reactions to subsequent submissions by the same author.
p.s. It's happened to me.
Sketches for Rubin's talk
Ocean Beach 5:47 p.m.
It never fails. Lunch with Lucille makes any day brighter.
My friend and writing mentor Jane Underwood died this morning of breast cancer.
I'm reading the most wonderful book about death – AND LIFE! – called WHEN BREATH BECOMES AIR by Paul Kalanithi.
Ocean Beach 5:35 p.m.
Sketches for Rubin's talk
Hello Again, Ocean Beach.
Ocean Beach 5:12 p.m.
Here's what happened after I said goodbye last week:
We had a change of scene. Very early Tuesday morning we flew across the country.
This was my first view of Deb and Eric's house in Charlottesville.
On Wednesday we visited the Charlottesville Aboriginal Museum. (GASP!) We sat down and painted using Aboriginal materials. It felt like kindergarten.
We ate at Hamilton's on Thursday and then took a long walk down to Deb and Eric's hayfield. Yep, they're farmers.
Swinging by the pond and then walking home at sunset.
Next, I spent two days with Aggles. We stayed in a fancy hotel in Chattanooga. That's where we went to junior high and high school. The first night was Mom's birthday so we ordered Italian cream cake for dessert (her fave) and told Mom Stories. Later we put on our robes, got in bed, and read aloud from Moominpappa's Memoirs.
On Saturday I got to have lunch with my junior high school pal, Gwen. After lunch we walked over to the library and surprised another high school buddy, Jim.
On Monday we flew back home to the center of the universe.
Goodbye, Ocean Beach.
See you in a week!
Kite boarding on the sand Ocean Beach 5:33 p.m.
Squiggle
Ocean Beach 5:15 p.m.
Ocean Beach 5:16 p.m. The pier off Vicente St.
Ocean Beach is a city beach. 5:44 p.m.
Sea Salad
Ocean Beach 5:30 p.m.
After the storm
...and before the next storm.
Rain.
Cricket and I each bought a new pair of boots especially for Boot Camp. But I didn’t even get to wear mine because it was pouring down rain. Cricket got to wear hers, though, because her new boots were made of rubber (red).
The workshop was amazing. The speakers, all extraordinary, were Mike Jung, Jennifer Lynn Alvarez, Naheed Hasnat, and Hillary Homzie. There were 45 or 50 people and the room had the best feeling. There was not too much pressure to mingle, though I did meet someone I really liked: a live wire named Joel Knopf, who recently came out with a CD for kids. His latest song is called Where Are My Pants? Lunch with Cricket at The Forge (thin-crusted wood-fired pizza) was delightful and just in time, because we were both growing weak with hunger.
If my blog were the only place you saw photos of San Francisco, you would think San Francisco was heaven. But San Francisco is also hell––I’m just not compelled to take pictures of that part. I felt sad racing past the Civic Center and down the steps to Bart this morning. When we emerged from the 12th Street Station across the bay, Oakland looked like a jewel compared to our city. But then again, by 11 am three cars parked right outside our workshop had been broken into. In the evening we took Bart back to San Francisco, and this time we tried getting off at the Powell Street Station. Not fun being in downtown San Francisco––at least at that particular time and place (5th and Market). So much in-your-face crazy, loud unhappiness––including the maniacal behavior of a cop parked up on the sidewalk. Many homeless, hopeless people.
from the Coastal Trail 5:06 p.m.
Instead of walking on the beach this evening, we walked through the pouring rain to Em & John's for dinner. It was a short walk. Just out our front door and up their steps. (Next door neighbors!)
Ocean Beach 5:05 p.m.
Ocean Beach Necklace
My book agent likes my pictures.