I am my own worst enemy.

I really don’t know how I always manage to do this, but every time I decide to “take it easy” with one of these stories and write something light, fun and short it winds up being this gigantic laborious effort.  I can’t even begin to explain what’s happened with this week’s story.  It’s just different.  Very very different.

Also, I’m reading “The Turn of the Screw” by Henry James right now.   I’ve understood nothing.  I’m like twenty pages from the end and I haven’t gotten a single thing out of it.  There’s a woman…and I think she lives in a house.  And that’s it.  That’s the extent of my comprehension of this book.  It’s really quite impressive.