Dear Friends and Readers,
During the cold dark days of December, after giving up sunny hours in the garden for electrically lit hours indoors, creative work becomes more elusive for me, as if a source of energy is gone.
So I turn the darkening days into a time to rest and restore myself, like the way roots find nourishment underground. And place cyclamen, orchids, and amaryllis in front of the east and south windows in my writing room.
It's also a time for me to lose myself in other writers' words. I read on my grandmother's chaise, in bed during the long dark nights and dawns, or on the train to New York when I can get away.
Interiority and introspection can lead to new insights and ideas. And before long the shortest day will arrive on December 21st and mark the end of the diminishing light.
My list of books to read is dauntingly long. I read about them online, then search for them here and there. In New York, I love exploring the stacks of the subscription library I've belonged to for more than forty years to see if the titles still intrigue me. There are other ways to find fascinating books, too. I just, for instance, finished Colum McCann's Apeirogon, a powerful hybrid novel that was not on my list, for a reading group.
A Note To Readers
Now that Word for Word has left my hands and is on its own, your stars and reviews on Amazon and Goodreads help keep it aloft. Thanks!