What, No Writing Self-Talk?

Sometimes I look back and wish I’d written more of this or more of that in a given year, but there is a through-line, and a narrative, that accounts for why I am where I am right now. It goes like this:

What the

man on motorcycle

car in the mud

man by car in cali

flying car

It’s conceivable that the cables may break, but things seem to be rolling along more or less smoothly. I can see the country ahead, and it has trees, potholes, mountain lions, cupcakes, meadows, and many good, clear roads. It looks beautiful.

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