The turkey and all those other things? Fine, fine, yes, good are they. But really, Thanksgiving is all about the pie. This one, made by Alice’s pal at the local farmer’s market, is an engulfing pleasure. (No, I haven’t tasted this one yet, but I’d had others; I believe in this pie’s spiritual heart.)

As for what’s what lately, I’m spending a lot of time with the draft and one self-edit of my Jack Daniel’s lunatic 40-year correspondence memoir, with lots of big decisions ahead on if I am going to self-publish. The 140+ documents alone that need to be scanned and embedded in the book with clarity are complication enough, in addition to the copyedit, proof and cover design.

But so far, I’m pretty pleased with the work—which likely means it needs a lot of work.

If I’m lucky, one of the literary agents I’ve mailed either a query or proposal or manuscript sample or one or all might bite, and if not, I’ll start sending those to small presses and perhaps a large press or two.

Besides the memoir, I’ve sent out a flurry of article queries lately, and have two solid “maybes” (chemical constituency of “maybe”: not a solid), so that’s good. No more querying until early December, and only a bit in there, as publishing naps over the holidays.

And I’m 4-5 months in with having my weekly one-hour conversations with a Ukrainian hoping to improve her english skills, through the ENGin program. It’s easily been as good for me as for her, and Tanya and I are now friends.

Happy Thanksgiving! (May your pie be transcendent.)
Updated November 28, 2024

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