Robert (gurdonark) wrote,

literary roadkill

"I absolutely believe it is fatal ever to write below your best, even if what you write may never be published"--Margery Sharp

I heard from my Ford buyer that he is coming to pick up his prize on Saturday morning. I'll be glad to see that Ford go to a new home. I'm winding down now from a trip to San Francisco for a business meeting. On the plane, I read Margery Sharp's "Something Light", which I enjoyed, and Willa Cather's "Song of the Lark", which "grabbed" me in ways that previous efforts to read it had not yielded.I enjoyed watching the intense team competition in womens' gymnatics from the Olympic games. The Romanian women were amazing. I was sorry to see our local girl, Carly Patterson, gained only team silver, but I have not kept up with the individual medal round.

I read an issue of "Tracks" magazine, which is a new music magazine which is finally more about music than about fashion or accessories. I also read Popular Science, which still has the best classifieds in magazinedom. Sadly, the Rosicrucians departed, but the lovable ads for steel buildings and banjos delighted.

I also started Bill Bryson's book about hiking the Appalachian Trail. I have no desire to hike a 2,100 mile trail, but I'd love to take a 20 mile hike some weekend.

I see that in my absence I lost an eBay auction, which, on reflection, I preferred to lose if the bidding increased. I wrote out lyrics for three more songs on the plane. This folk song thing is working out well.

The week is half over. I am no worse than a half wit. So it all works out.
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