musicals

I pull out my handy-dandy Nancy Drew notepad that goes everywhere with me and flip to some notes from my Chicago trip. I pass through the name of the porta potty company in South Shore Station that would make for a good title of a new mom book (Oui Oui Enterprises), through notes on the man snoring beside me in the Metra station and the butterfly that got trapped in the bench area with me, through a dazzling first line and brilliant character sketch, and I get to this: why I write. Sometimes when the words don't come and the rejections do, I remind myself.