Without slowing her stride,

a woman reaches down to slip off one red shoe, and then the next. She keeps walking down Fifth Avenue in the abating rain, shoes in one hand, umbrella in the other.

Earlier in the day, before the rain, a man walking three collie mixes complimented her glasses and her shoes, then asked if she was a teacher. She said no, what made him ask? "You have cool teacher vibes," he said.

NEWSY STUFF

More postcard than letter this week, as I'm in reset mode, approaching the three-month mark at my new job at Via Transportation, trying to restart a writing practice beyond Divinity School, which has been a buoy during this big life change, but not nearly enough.

I am reading "The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny," by Kiran Desai and remembering how wonderful it feels to read something good. I love a long consuming novel, which is funny to me because I don't have any desire to write one, I only want to write something slender and sharp.

"Sir John of Parkway," an essay I wrote in a hurry in Quebec, in response to an open call at A Public Space, just came back with a very kind note saying I was a close finalist. "I admire the self-assured quality of your writing," wrote the editor.

Which makes me think that perhaps I ought to try writing my slender, sharp novel in a hurry, to get past my internal censor.

Surely it's all there by now, inside me, I just have to get it on the page AKA read it to myself.