This weather is something else. Arts Club reading: postponed to April. Miami trip: postponed to May. Our electricity has held up, but I am superstitious enough to be cooking things that can be eaten cold, out of the fridge, if we lose power. (PEPCO has pulled its workers off the streets because of the winds--meaning that if your lines are down, there's no help on the way just yet).
Nothing but white, white, white. I have to get all the way up to the windows in order to see across the street. The birds look like they're flying from something.
So...Plan B. An afternoon conference call on PR possibilities for the upcoming "Writing the Future" conference at the Writer's Center, which I am really excited about. A Michael Pollan book to read. Maybe a game of Scrabble, which makes me wonder--my goodness, what are the VCCA folks doing in all this? Has it been nothing but pasta dinners on the mountain?
Before I forget, hooray for Rebecca Skloot's new book (I've been reading her bylines for so many years, I was shocked to realize it's her first book). The subject of The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks is fascinating, and I root for any fellow not-quite-memoirist. Amidst the raves there's been an unusual amount of meta-reviewing of not only Skloot's writing, but her success and how she came to it. Check this out for a tip of the iceberg.