Saturday, March 22, 2014
March 22, 2014
Mint tea and writing before dawn.
A black water beetle has joined Lawrence in his pond. I don’t know how this happens. Perhaps it was hiding in the waterlily pot.
Sending the Lincoln trilogy out. Why am I stuck on three? Why couldn’t there be four, ten, a library? I want to extend my scope, but American history is surprisingly resistant to the stage.
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