61 bar steep rise 29.96 2mph NNW dew-point 45 Summer night, nice
New Moon (Thunder Moon)
I’d forgotten the all consuming nature of writing a novel. It goes to bed with you, advances into your dreams and wakes up with in the morning. Plot ideas, twists, character developments, inconsistencies, new characters. All aswirl. The novel bumps up against daily life, takes something from it, gives something back, a loop, a mobius strip. Feedback. A neuro-net firing and firing and firing. It’s fun, a wild ride while its cookin’.
There are plateaus. Superior Wolf landed on a plateau about 6 years ago, struggled to get off it a couple of times, then settled back down to rest. Jennie’s Dead has been on a bit more of an up and down ride. She’s in storage now, but I can sense her wanting to break out now that her brother has begun to get legs, take strides.
Somehow, as happens in my life, momentum has increased. Both the velocity and the mass have kicked up at the same time, calling back into action skills set aside long ago. The Sierra Club work will require a good deal of time. The novel needs constant nourishment. So does the garden. These three alone would be a good deal, but I also have a sermon to write for September that will take at least a week of research, if not more. I’ve also agreed to take on managing the Docent Book Club and my term for that starts this month. Then there’s that pesky Africa check out tour.
Right now this all feels good. Blood flowing, mind working. And I’m sure it will feel that way for a good while, probably on into December, then I’ll feel a need for a let down again. Right now, though, I’m jazzed.
My Woolly meeting is in August this year. I sent out the following e-mail so guys could prep for it.