Last week I put down a cockroach trap and caught a baby mouse, which I threw outside. However, I've now discovered that there's a much larger mother mouse and two more baby mice hiding behind the stove in my unit. I don't want to kill them, but they are beginning to annoy me with their sudden appearances and swift racing across the carpet, which startles me out of my writing stupor. Meanwhile, I've logged up nearly 56,000 words of this bloody novel, which I'm beginning to loathe. Everything one does these days appears insignificant compared to atrocities occurring in the world. After the initial shock of seeing such things on television we become desensitized, or, if not callous, then we immediately adapt to seeing acts of terrorism. I'm writing this on a computer in the Richmond Library and talking about terrorism appears bizarre because just behind me are mothers and their children sitting cross-legged on the floor singing 'if you're happy and you know it clap your hands'! Will keep you posted, this mood will surely lift because it's almost Easter.
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Hi Julie,understand exactly how you're feeling. I have been working like a woman possessed since January on'is it a novel?'memoir,processing the personal v. outside world on a journey of exploraton... don't know Anything but came up on my phone,but thought I'd say hallo....fin
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