I spent the hours between noon and eleven o'clock at night writing a fifteen-page paper. It has forty-seven footnotes.

How accomplish'd of you. Bluestockingish. I applaud.

I had Cheerios for dinner.

Such is the writerly life. Cheerios and cold takeout.

I'm tickled that The Cuckoo is such a hit among your friends. I feel quite godmotherly toward it by now. But I wish I could get in on some of these conversations on Finno-Ugrian liguistics and liminal shamanism.

Oh my, and I love that aftermath of a piratical party. Especially the detumescent palm and the bottle of Old Yeti.

Nine