For those of you who don’t know, Zharmae Publishing has agreed to publish Bartleby: A Scrivener’s Tale, and expects it to be in print sometime in 2017. The novel is, of course, the real story behind Herman Melville's character, and short story, "Bartleby, The Scrivener."
 |
| The Dead Letter Office in Washington City, where it all begins |
I finished the first full edit for Bartleby today and sent
it off to Zharmae publishing. I’ve been
feeling edgy and restless yesterday and today, vaguely guilty, as though I’ve
done something wrong, or neglected to do something important. This is sort of typical for my anxiety
disorder, but I always hate it.
I have found, over the years, that if I spend some time
writing, working toward my goals, or just letting the Muse take me, I usually
feel much better afterward. Perhaps that
ill-at-ease feeling is simply my Muse telling me to get to the keyboard. Still, she could be nicer about it!
We are looking forward to our trip to Illinois / Iowa for my
youngest daughter’s wedding in September, and to retrieve our furniture (at
least some of it) from storage. But the
thought of trip itself and the cost is enough to give me worry fits; I’m a
little terrified that finances will catch us short! They say courage is not the absence of fear,
but the willingness to do something even if you ARE afraid. So I am trying to stay courageous. (She said,
trembling.)
Rick beating cancer is the best news we have had, followed
by the acceptance of my novel for publishing, then the wedding, so overall, it
has been a good year so far. Keeping my
fingers crossed that our luck holds out and that things continue to improve
over the struggles of the past.
Here is a poem to share:
Poem Life of a
Crystal
I was born in the dark
Of the Earth
In the heat and the weight of time.
I was freed in a flash
By a blast
And carried by forces sublime.
I was worn for a time
By a priestess
In a land now deeply submerged.
I was washed by the ocean
For eons
Until from the tide I emerged.
I lay on the beach
Forever
A spark in the sun and sand,
Til an artist came by
With a marvelous eye
And now I am worn on her hand.
© Catt Foy, 2015
