Lulu the Beloved

This was what I saw in my rearview mirror for 38 hours-- sometimes sleeping with her head on the back seat, sometimes just watching me with big woeful eyes.

Damn that Mapquest-- got lost in foggy Iowa for a while. All the while, I was listening to Gilead, which was read by a man with an annoyingly hearty voice. Despite the voice, I was weeping because the prose and the book overall are so beautiful. Gilead is set in Iowa; I listened as the characters were crossing the West Nishna-something river and suddenly remembered that I had crossed it the day before, wondering if the TMers had somehow won naming rights to it.

Back in Cleveland now. So much to do. These are the other great things about driving cross country: you can wear the same clothes for four days in a row and all you have to do is move forward.

Every time I stopped at a rest area or gas station, I did as Bird (the character in my under-revision novel) would do: I looked for arrowheads. Unlike her, I did not find any.    ¶ 6:29 AM