March 24, 2015

Another day of digging and planting under the varying sun. Everything piled up on my porch planted, the water gardens filled. Sent The Falls of the Wyona to the agent who so admired Necklaces so much and for so many reasons, and yet, inevitably, absurdly, in the end declined to take it. It’s like one rejecting a perfect garden because she discovers that the flowers are pollinated not by angels but by bees. Envy is forced upon me every day. Have ideas in my head to write now, cannot until there is some breakthrough so it doesn’t seem futile. Hungry. Am not often outright hungry. Alan left a beautiful, lyrical evaluation of the Amadeus experience on Facebook. I have to take time to appreciate all that.