finish more letters and get round to sending them (I have a drawer of half-written letters and unsent postcards, which are now hopelessly out of date in their news).
Tom Robbins wrote back to me. He is my hero. He told me good things about the whirlwind and the left-handed path, urged me to persist with these words of mine, and said, "Phrases such as 'New York is poised beneath a pinata full of rhinestones and laughing gas...' are among the most exciting things I've read since social networking crippled the Language Wheel." He also felt-tipped red and blue stripes on the envelope to make it airmail.
Everything is about to gallop (I am). Everything is about to explode.