I'm working on the manuscript for my book, and I'm wondering how I suddenly got excited about something after months of abject misery. I don't know what my proverbial kick in the ass was. Stephen died last week. So did Caroline Knapp. When I found out about Stephen, I thought I was having some sort of out-of-body experience in grief.

I don't even feel cautiously optimistic right now. I don't want to say that the tide is finally turning. I just don't know anything, and I'm afraid to wish too hard.