Took a “writing” day yesterday to work on developing my graduating class, but ended up using it to complete my preparation for thesis interviews.  I now have two manuscripts entirely marked up, one in more detail than just about anything I have ever marked up, and one at a comfortable level.  (The comfortable one is a friend, and hell, we’ve already talked about the manuscript… so I hardly know what to say in the interview, though given the fact that I actually get smarter in the proximity of the smart people at Warren Wilson, I am sure I’ll say something useful to the author.)

After finishing up, I started re-reading a novel that I really enjoyed in middle school, and am surprised at how, though I did not remember any of it when I started, I now recall quite a bit of it now that I have seen the name of the wacky occultist: Samuel Klugarsh.  A good name in a story will stay with a reader for a long, long time in the deepest pockets of the subconscious.  I was feeling guilty about the fact that I haven’t read a book of poems in two weeks, then realized that I have, they just aren’t bound yet.

I am eating half a Pizzone for breakfast.