Feel good

 I wrote my query letter for Muscles & Wine a few days ago.

Waiting for feedback from my constant editor and chief reader, Tim Scott.

I will then pool other opinions.

I also finished writing the narrative (let's face it, fantasy... for now) of my life if I get to a famous writer.

Really it is a bulletpointed list why I want this for myself (beyond just the childish lure of fame & fortune), and then the narrative of what my life will look like.

It was cathartic.

And now I am nearly finished (only a page of notes left to realize in prose) with a David Kemp story I began in 2021, but is still fresh as if it were yesterday... it should be. It's my life. 

At any rate, I've just written a few pages that I am most proud of (that is rare for me) and now I am one foot out the door to go out for the night.

I won't say where, but I will say that this location is featured prominently in my story (titled "Unknown Animal").

I just love writing until I leave for the night... It's like that scene in On the Road... in which Kerouac hunched, like a tree bullied by storm, over his typewriter while Neal Cassady (disguised as Dean Moriarty in the years before his Ken Kesey days) loomed over his shoulder.

         “Come on man, those girls won’t wait, make it fast… Go ahead, everything you do is great… Yes! That’s right! Wow! Man!... Phew!... Man, wow, there’s so many things to do, so many things to write! How to even begin to get it all down and without modified restraints and all hung-up on like literary inhibitions and grammatical fears . . ."