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April 19, 2008


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Verna Wilder

Oh yeah, I know I know, uh-huh (we're sitting in that fabulous cafe you shot a photo of), same thing happens to me (gimme one of your napkins - mine are all used up). So then what gets you writing again? (are you going to eat that pickle?) Me? Some idea takes me, or - no - one night it was the smell of lilacs and my hand picked up a pen and started making blog notes on a square of grid-lined paper. Sensual intake will do it: a thunder storm, a song, the smell of rain, sip of red wine, you know.

I've been out of touch with your blog for a long time, and as you say in your own blog, you understand why. Now I'm parking your URL in my Google Reader and will stay caught up. I love your writing and hope you will push through those wordless times, thus inspiring me to do the same. (I like this place; let's eat here again.)


I'm so glad you decide to stay. Even if it's only once in a while. To know you're still out there and coming back at any moment gives me one more shiny place in my life.

I totally understand what you are saying in this post. I could have written it myself.

And if you ever decide to do an anonymous blog, you have to promise to tell me. (I'll only read it with funny glasses on and post comments like I don't know you, promise.)

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