I've just been too...overworked to post. I know, I know, you're saying, how can a person who sets their own schedule, who has time to exercise, cook meals and have a meaningful relationship with her husband possibly be overworked? It's more of that mental drain I was talking about earlier. I'm up at six, sometimes earlier, if I'm not stuck in a dream about being impregnated by strange test-tube babies that looke like cabbage patch dolls (sorry). By one, I've worked seven hours straight at my computer, stopping only long enough to eat some oatmeal or yogurt. In that time I've likely edited and written and my eyes are bloodshot and my neck kinked.

Okay, wait a minute...I didn't come here to whine.

I came here to report on all the great things of late...the Night Train reading, which, although the audience wasn't as packed as I had hoped, was a fabulous slate of readers including novelists Bruce Bauman, Michelle Richmond and Sue Henderson, and the funny, wry Dave Fromm, whose work appeared in Night Train Three. It's funny though how I find myself drawn less and less to hosting in this public way. It's not that I can't pull it out--I can--but I used to crave it, and now I do it when I have to. I would like more opportunities to read my own work, though.

Then of course, the episode of Word by Word I FORGOT to post about, but which will be archived in the next two weeks featuring Ingrid Hill and Roxana Robinson. It's one you won't want to miss! It was

My good friend E. moved to NY on Tuesday and I already miss her. She lived down the block from me, and so now when I pass by her place I get rather sad. But I know she's going to have a blast and become a world-famous journalist, so I can't be too sad, because she's going to be so much happier and she's the type who stays in touch with her friends no matter where they are in the world. Then, coincidentally, the last day E. and I went out to lunch before she left, to a joint I almost never frequent, I ran into my friend W. Now what's weird about this is that I haven't seen W. in TWO YEARS, but I think about her all the time. And, I'd been having hallucinations, thinking I saw her all over town but "she" turned out to be just another person who looked like her. So when it really was her, I couldn't believe my eyes. And she's turned up just as I was feeling lonely, and we've been taking walks and having those good, soul-satisfying deep talks that I crave so much. It's really good to see her. She's in town for another two weeks and staying in walking distance around the corner from my house, which is really cool. I'm remembering how important it is to have these soulful friend connections. It's also making me think how strange timing is, and how hard it is not to believe in some kind of providence or created reality.

My article in The Writer magazine is finally out on stands now. It's the September issue, but it's out now. This is my first national publication.

Becca and I are making steady progress on our book for writers and will be teaching our first workshop with exercises based on the book in September at the Sebastopol Center for the Arts (September 24th, 11-4). It's very exciting to collaborate on a project that feels like it really could have wings. We're already setting up dates for next year's Wellspring retreat (May) and I am so looking forward to seeing where this all leads.

I've been forcing myself through crappy chapters of my novel just to get finished so that I can start shaping it up and let some smart people read it...

And that's all for today's boring update. Except that yesterday I hiked in what appeared to be dry, dry woods, and W. and I were attacked by mosquitos the size of bluejays. We couldn't figure it out, and then we rounded a bend and there was a huge, festering lagoon of standing water. We broke into a run, but I literally have mosquito bites the size of quarters...it's horrid!

J