i’m tried. shattered, I would have written if I’d never left dublin. i’m thirsty and hungry. i feel small. i have a headache, splitting. all this and still i’m here. why?

i just read a wonderful review of goodnight nobody. it made me want to cry with relief. like thank god. someone’s still reading the book. someone’s still liking the book. books die almost as fast as the mayfly if they’re not read. the review made me feel the book is still alive, if only twitching.

i have so much work to do today, but i’m tired and my head hurts and i feel small and heavy. i work too hard. i need to rest. i have several readings coming up over the next four months. 9, i think. i don’t know what that has to do with anything, except right now all those readings feel like something else that’s wrong with me.

i have work coming out in several books. here. and here. and here. and here. and out of dublin will be published in print along with five other shebooks titles in their ‘best of’ anthology titled ‘whatever doesn’t kill you.’ and four months after publication out of dublin, the ebook single, remains a shebooks bestseller. i am beyond grateful. like smack me is this real grateful. still i’m not grateful enough. yearning. it’s a condition.

i’ve sent a short story ms to irish publishers. it contains 9 full-length short stories, all set in ireland. it would mean so very much to be published in ireland. like dream come true much. i’m about to send my novel ms to my agent, too. that’s also set in ireland. it hurts how much i’m hoping.

when i was in ireland over the summer i met two dragons. it’s a long, wild, and aptly magical story, but the details aren’t the point. the point is that i’ve always loved dragons. dragons, like fire, capture my imagination. the particular point is that pure chance allowed my two sisters and me to spend an unforgettable evening with these dragons. i was reminded good thingsĀ can happen. reminded that sometimes people and the world are wonderful.

i rarely write here anymore. and this post feels like, well, drivel. but i felt this strong urge to write here today. i came back and in filling the blank page i heard the screaming. i’m not where i want to be. i want to get to someplace else. i’m hoping chance is reading.

wish me good luck, will you? and send some painkillers.

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