Like a murderous chef, I've taken ripe strawberries, laid them prone on the cutting board, and hacked mercilessly at their bodies until red juice seeps through the white plank. This bloody pulp I then add to my diet lemon lime soda, stirring 'til it becomes a froth, and drain with large gulps into my parched throat. Of late, nothing can quench my all-consuming desire for these innocent fruits of summer.
By the way, I finished Hamlet yesterday. Shakespeare always leads to write descriptive flourishes.
The reason I picked up this particular play, aside from my regret of never reading it in high school and my desire to feel smart, is because this Saturday, my friend and I are going to Newport Beach to see Shakespeare by the Sea perform the tragedy of the Danish prince. It's a free show and a chance to play the day away at the beach. I've cleared my weekend specifically for this event.
Unfortunately, it also meant trying to cram too much stuff into a tired little 5-day week. I worked on editing The Changelings, finished a chapter of Three Floating Coffins, got a crown put over my sad little root canal, and completed the process of getting a DBA. I had hoped to research more about publishing and school districts, but ran out of time. Oh, well.
This week is Shakespeare, next week is a trip to the Getty. Fun times ahead.