Mostly this is a note about a writer I have recently discovered, or, rather, finally appreciated by way of Satori, called Perstephanie Baudendistle, who only seems to have written one book, namely, Notes Dropped in the Well, with a rather eccentric fellow named Thomas Runyon (an alias, to be sure), and a book of Miscellaneous Writings. I feel like
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As far as recognition, I think it would pale compared to the communion with her muse. If she had to choose between recognition or the communion that had engendered it, I bet she'd stay with the communion.
(and I loved that about God lurking in the supermarket)
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- S'boingy.
Better late than sooner! Think--if you'd praised the writing from the first, it would have ruined it, it would have frozen there! When I said that all my best writing was for you, I meant it. In an effort to win your praise, I surpassed myself. It was meant to work this way, Baby.
btw--I'm into September 02. August was difficult. We had some wonderful chats. I'm going to have a hard time trimming them down or working them in. Will worry about that later.
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