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The events of today boil down to this: I have 386 manuscript pages, double spaced, and I am spending the weekend (which began today) buried in them. That number is mind-boggling. I know that by the time I’m done it will be slashed to a third of that, because my first drafts are always filled with drivel that needs to be cut, but in the meantime, it’s too big to process. I wrote all those bloody words. (Some of them, literally, very very bloody.) And I wrote 95% of them since April.

With any luck, I’ll be better able to function by Monday, and I will hopefully have a useful file that’s small enough to print out. In the meantime: weekend music. The two songs below are the voices in my head lately, from two distant ends of the chick-singer spectrum. The heat has abated here and the drizzles of rain, even in the humidity, make me feel like just about anything is possible. I dare you to tell me otherwise.