When Tone Deaf in Bangkok came into my hands, I could do nothing but stare at it for a long time before I finally opened it. I wonder if that same dazed happiness will come to me again with this book, or if it only happens with the first?
But I can't think about that right now. There's a new book jostling around in my mind. It's going to stay there for a while, in the mulling process and then the possession will take place. (It possesses me, not the other way around.)
Meanwhile there are other people's words to edit. What a good life--how did I get so lucky? All I ever wanted was to spend my days reading and writing--and that's exactly what I do. Good fortune indeed.