I am plugging away at my proposal, winning ground every day. The time crunch is a problem, but the manuscript editing job that is backing into the proposal seems to be delayed, the writer not yet done with the composing. I am grateful for these few extra days of grace.
I did another interview with my subject that yielded such treasure, and now I just have to figure out the book's chapter outline, since it's not a simple forward-leaning narrative. It's more like personal anecdotes leading to hard-won prescriptive wisdom. I'm not naturally prescriptive in my thought processes, so this is proving tricky to figure out. I concentrate on getting a little further along each day, like the high beams on a car picking out the road immediately ahead in a lake of night. Even though the driver can't see but a few feet of the journey at a time, eventually the car gets to its destination.
Perhaps I will go and work in that cafe on my block where morning sun pours through the blue-framed doors and brightens the painted sunflowers. Maybe today I will try to navigate in daylight. I'm missing my house buddy, who's back at work. In the four months he was home recovering, his presence grounded me and made me content as I worked. Now it's just me, at the mercy of household distractions, not to mention careening thoughts. Yeah, maybe this is a get out into the world sort of day.