Today has been busy. Allen and I have been making preparations for Provincetown. The biggest part of the weight falls on Allen, who worked all day making a truck cap to keep things dry and safe. I've spent the day gathering the books I want to take. There are so many. I think of Annie Dillard who spent a year in a cabin and later wrote Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. She checked dozens of books out of the library, checking facts, making connections. It's that way for me. There are so many aspects of life that I want to bring into my next novel.
As I was gathering, I suddenly remembered that I have to take every book I have on James Wright, since our boat stop in Martins Ferry was important. I also must take every book I have on biology, Ohio, rivers, mysticism, and fairy tales. And more. That is going to be a load of books.
Last night I reread Capote's "Miriam." I was stunned anew at what a great story it is. Interpretations abound. I thought and thought about the story's meaning last night. I will write about it soon.
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