two writers

Sometimes I catch myself sitting around trying to make sense of it all… an impossible task. Sometimes I catch myself doing this… Sometimes I find myself doing that… ‘Sometimes I find/catch myself…” -- how I have a habit of beginning sentences like this (only in my diary though) but still, it’s funny if you think about it. It’s like being out of my body and watching me doing stuff. So now I find myself typing on the computer and I find myself wanting a glass of water and I find myself in the kitchen pouring water into a glass and I find myself walking up the stairs back into my room. Careful not to take on that existentialist tone. I won’t. I won’t. I love my existence! Sit back and rejoice.

Train of thought disrupted. Please ignore.

“Adam, you leave more questions here than you’ve answered.”

I know. I don’t know why I write like that. It must be the way I talk, the way I teach. I tend to utter more interrogative sentences than declarative sentences. I wonder why that is. But I'm getting better. I really am. “But you can write. You can definitely write.” She said that! She said that!? Miss Camilla Gibb who has published three novels internationally. How validated that makes me feel! And it was her last day as writer-of-residence at the university and my work was the last piece she reads and now she’s on her way to New York doing promotion for her newest novel… Dear me… the life of writer how attractive!

I’m building an imaginary list of people to whom I will send my first book. In the meantime, I need to resolve this piano scene…