Wild Wednesday
Storms and more storms. But they only last for twenty minutes. First it's ninety degrees, then it's seventy. One day the garden is huge, the next day it's wilted. I go out to water, and it starts to rain. Then the sun comes out, and it rains in full sunlight. Keeps things interesting.

Immigration Monday starts...on Monday! Check it out right here, same time, same channel.

Well, amigos and amigas--I have been writing for several days now. Feeling like hell. Hot and bored and listening to music and burning candles (for that good spiritula light) and burning incense (for that old Hummingbird vibe) and smudging the desk with sage oils. All kinds of spaced out rituals left over from my shaman-saint years. Basically to distract me from planting my butt in the chair. But I've been writing.

As you know, I wrote House of Broken Angels this year. BUT IT WAS DEEMED TOO SHOCKING. That's right--I committed a thought-crime of some sort, and the great powers above me felt that you, my friendly book-club-lovin' readers, would fall over dead if I unleashed a furious book upon you like that one. I was frustrated in my arguments--after all, The Devil's Highway is hardly a gigglefest...and if you think about it, Hummingbird's Daughter is charming, but it deals with genocide, poverty, violence against women, the poor and the indigenous peoples of the Americas. In fact, if you look at the Urrea bookshelf, you'll find lots of really nasty stuff. So the outcome of this difficult change of direction for me was that they made me an offer: write something else. And then write Hummingbird II. Then we'll think about this Broken Angels business.

Fortunately, Wen-Fu and the Theory and Practice of Trust (Faith!) never fail, and I had a killer idea. And I'm two excellent (if I do say so myself) chapters in. It looks like it's going to fly. It's going to make you happy. It's a secret.

Soon, Cinderella and I will be flying to England, where we'll meet up with the Queen Mary II, and I'll be the Atlantic Corssing's dancing lit-monkey. I have to get a tux. If you know me, you know that if I find a shirt with buttons on it, that's really dressing up! Putting on shoes--forget about it.

Remember what the master, Issa, said: Simply Trust.
Yrs., L

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