So I lost my phone ten days ago. In the days leading up to this, my phone was bothering me for different reasons. Sometimes it bothered me for ringing too much.
When I realized it had fallen out of my bag one night while I was running home from work at 3.30 in the morning (work’s been wild for the past week-ish), I actually felt more relieved than frustrated.
Now that I’m literally never worried about anyone calling, a bit more brain if free to ponder book. Yes, that’s still happening. I’m shooting for a July completion. Since I’ve completed a poetry book every July for the past three years – this will be a lovely switch.
Typical of what I believe many Writers experience, my “novel” is sort of three novels in one. I find myself dissecting bits and pieces while weaving new word ribbons throughout. I guess that’s handy, after I finally pump out the first one I’ll already have another pair on the go.
One of the reasons I set off to return to this town was of how it hides you in the crowd. Something comforts me about just being another face floating amongst the group. After two marriages, life in two countries and more personal sagas than any creature should really attempt – I’m soothed by the constant rush around me. There’s a silence to it that cradles me.
Like not having a phone…