The snow was deep – so deep that near the top I was plowing through it almost to my waist. But breaking trail in this kind of terrain always feels good to me. And, after sitting in front of my computer most of the morning, it felt so good to work my body.
I am so glad that I spent most of yesterday writing about my mother. I’m not sure if I reached some kind of completion or closure or whatever you wish to call it, but I think I’m in a good place.
I think she is in a good place.
Time in front of the computer: this was time spent not writing, but rather exploring all the places to send my writing, other than my own website. I scoured through pages of publishers, agents, and magazines. It was all rather depressing. Nothing leapt out at me. I don’t want to simply do a blanket submission to everyone out there – hundreds and hundreds. I want to send my work to people who will read it and and who will look at it with thought. I don’t care to receive form letter rejections from people who haven’t read past the first sentence – if that.