I thought today would be crazy difficult, but not so. I spent last night with my Mom in Saugerties. We sat around reading old Gourmet magazines from the 90’s, watched a documentary about the great Johnny Cash, and drank a little wine. Kate
stopped by for a ham (!) sandwich. So with all that activity, I wrote only a few hundred words last evening, leaving me with catch-up writing for Monday. After negotiating the hazards of the NY State Thruway on the first winter storm of the season, I got home and tucked in to my novel.
I finished up just a little while ago, and with some trepidation, started looking back for the first time at my story in its entirely. To my surprise, it isn’t a complete wreck and with a lot of work could be promising little tale of horror. Here’s just the smallest of excerpts for the curious:
He didn’t want Betty to know what he had found, so he buried it. He put it in a box and drove out of town and buried it along the side of a road he never travels. He never wanted to think about it again. When he got back, he burned the mattress. He didn’t look further to see what else may have been hidden there.
On a culinary note, I wasn’t pleased with the tempeh I made for dinner. Next time I’ll slice it thinner and let it marinate longer. It tasted a little like how I imagine gym socks would taste.