I had a super-duper birthday two years ago, and since we just had a 50th birthday party for Cris's sister we're not really up for another party. Tonight her sister is coming over, coincidentally, and we'll watch a documentary she worked on and eat some Thai food. And maybe the last of the cake from last weekend. That's all right.
A lot of times I look back on my birthday, but since it's pretty much a sure thing that, at age 52, I'm closer to dying than being born, it seems like less work to look ahead. This year I'm going to finish another draft --the final one, I hope -- of my novel about the American girl who goes to Bangalore to help open a customer service call center. And when I'm done with that, I'll try another shot at the book I wrote for Cleis Press last sumer and fall. I'm doing a reading on
1 comment:
Happy, happy birthday!
I'm so glad to see you getting to work on the rewrites; it's a cold splash going in, but once you've warmed up I know it'll be just fine.
xox
P.S. You'll always be younger than me, so don't feel too bad... ;-)
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