Insurance Screw Up and Working on Stories

 Well, I found out yesterday afternoon that the change from Anthem HIP to Anthem MHS screwed me mroe than I jknew. My counselor is now not in my network as well as my doctor. I need to get to get the sheriff and to Family Services today. I asked CC for help in getting around. She did not answer my text or her phone. I may be walking all over Muncie's far west end this afternoon.

I did a bunch of submissions last night. I will detail later. I caught more corrections needing done.

I got out last evening for a walk to McClure's and then to Dollar General around 5, I think. It was a nice day.

About book banning: I dropped in on Anger & Clarity, a Substack, yesterday and see that it covers several stories on censorship.

This morning, I read Mána Taylor's review, “A Horse at Night: On Writing” by Amina Cain, which might be worth picking up for me or you as a would-be writer:

A Horse at Night: On Writing is as much about reading and referencing other authors as it is about her own process of writing. She calls the book “a diary of fiction” in the opening paragraph. She also writes that she has never been able to keep a diary, but “sometimes I trick myself when writing in my notebook; sometimes I end up working on the novel after all, in those pages.” Most of the book is about processing other people’s writing and discovering the process of writing itself. The book’s cover image, which gets referenced in her writing as a jpg on her desktop, is a painting of two women in a carriage car. One of them is reading and the other is sleeping. They are facing each other. They seem to be twins, or one could even imagine it to be the same person in different stages of the journey. 

Is she tricking herself by writing to a ‘friend,’ in order to write to herself? Cain traces the liminal space between thought and story. Her writing is comforting and contemplative. The conversational aspect of A Horse At Night continuously submerged me in the warmth of her prose. I felt, as you might too, that she was talking to me and directly sharing with me her musings and frustrations on writing. Now that I have placed the book back on my bookshelf, aptly in-between Theresa Hak Kyung Cha and Marguerite Duras, I find that the book is silent and I can feel its absence from my life. I look forward to a time when I will open it up again and share a passage with a friend

That is all for this morning.

sch