And the trees mourned the year's passing ...
10. Once again failed to interest Marvel in my Thus Spake Zarathustra comic book.
9. Two words: parking ticket. Two times. Ouch.
8. For the third year in a row my efforts to memorize the Biblical book of Genesis shuddered to a stop at the scene where the giants come down to earth and have sex with the humans. I don’t know why. I just can’t get past it.
7. One night I saw the new moon with the old moon in her arms.
6. A catastrophic moment: wait, I’m drawing a blank here. But trust me, it happened.
5. After taking an over-the-counter allergy med before bedtime last spring, I awoke with a start in the middle of the night with an entire poem etched in my consciousness. I had the feeling that a Sprite or Muse had dipped my brain in fairy dust in which the words had been traced with the index finger of an angel. For a moment I considered getting up and writing down the poem, but it seemed so fresh and clear in my mind, and I was very sleepy. Assuming I would remember it in the morning, I slipped back into a contented sleep knowing that when I awoke the history of poetry was about to undergo a shattering change. Alas, in the cold light of day, the poem had vanished. I remember only one phrase: a damsel with a dulcimer. Hell of line, too.
4. One day I looked out the window. Something I don’t do that often. Out of fear. About what I might see. About what might be out there. Or in here. That I couldn’t see until I looked out there. Bad cycle.
5a. During an “Internet search,” I realized the “damsel with a dulcimer” line was from a famous poem from the Past.
3. My novel, The Doom Prophecy, was not picked up by a publisher—once again.
2. A potted basil plant in my windowsill began sprouting roses. I think so at least. Or perhaps this was only a dream.
1. And the number one thing that happened to me in 2011: I stole a kiss from the new moon while the old moon lay in her arms.
