I went to the library today. They reshelved the fiction. This threw me off. Then I went downtown and got a totally overpriced and delicious piece of lemon merengue pie at the Clinton Street Bakery. I couldn’t find a bench, so I ate it at a bus stop while listening to Terry Gross’s interview with Michelle Williams. Sitting there, I had another of those moments of feeling like I want to block out everything else and just write the whole damn story in an evening or a weekend.
Every time something happens to me-good, bad, extraordinary-I find myself thinking if it’s going to end up in the story, if I want to give it to my characters. The answer really depends on the day. Today, when I thought about my story, I decided that somehow, the pie and the East River must get in there.