Sorry I am being so boring lately (or maybe I am always boring and you’re just being kind by popping in to visit). Am working on a project and trying to meet self-imposed goals. Right now I have to finish another 500 words before I can have a pre-dinner glass of wine. So here is more from Annie Dillard’s The Writing Life:

Why are we reading if not in hope that the writer will magnify and dramatize our days, will illuminate and inspire us with wisdom, courage, and the possibility of meaningfulness, and will press upon our minds the deepest mysteries, so we may feel again their majesty and power? What do we ever know that is higher than that power which, from time to time, seizes our lives, and reveals us startingly to ourselves as creatures set down here bewildered? Why does death so catch us by surprise, and why love? We still and always want waking.

Meanwhile, a writer friend of mine got some exciting news yesterday–the best, most exciting kind of news. And it thrills me because he is not only talented but kind. I can’t wait until his news is more public so that I can trumpet about it.