I found myself travelling back to MA on Holly's birthday. Anniversaries and birthdays, Thanksgiving marked 10 years for her. My Mom and I sit in the car, "She would have been 34." Brian was a Christmas baby, he would have been 33. Within the last few weeks I have been receiving many beautiful letters about Blood & Pudding. The book has sold almost entirely off of word of mouth which just sort of baffles my mind but also touches me deeply. I received this email from someone I very much admire a few weeks ago. Thank you to everyone for your continued support.
So I've been reading blood and pudding, just so enveloped. It's something i am parceling out. I am tempted to race through it, and I could. but I want to make it last. I want to have more to come back to, so I can have it when I feel like I might need it. Snarky writer part of me says there are scads of lines I'd love to steal. But real me says there are so many lines I thoroughly feel attached to -- at the hip, head or wherever. Thoughts that I've had but havent always made concrete. Thanks for putting this into words.
Holly and I used to quote the beginning of Trainspotting every time we'd go on a road trip. I used to call Brian my "Sick Boy". Seems appropriate I end this entry with just that.