This is no Breakfast at Tifffany's

I did not leave my meeting with my advisor in tears. I did not crawl into a corner with my thumb in my mouth. I only drank one cup of coffee. It was the size of my head, but still…

In general, it was good meeting. The only surprise was that Susan feels that the collection of stories, which are meant to function as separate short stories about two separate sets of characters, works better as two novellas. I think I hate that idea. I don’t know. I have taken the last couple of days off from thesis, trying to let the conversation sink in. Novellas? All I could think of was Hispanic telenovellas.

I know that is not an accurate connection. I know about Kafka’s and Joyce’s novellas, among many other worth-while works. I don’t know. It’s a strange feeling, thinking you are creating one thing and being told you have created something else.

I get the message though. As stand-alone short stories, several do not work yet. I can live with that. I have two months to make it work And I will, I will make it work (she said, channeling Rand.)

In the mean time, I am off to Wisconsin Dells for a long weekend with Husband’s family, which includes nine grandchildren. Nine kids and 300 water rides. For three days. Please keep me in your prayers.