I got back the copyedited version of my manuscript and the copyeditor is simply lovely in her comments, respectful of the work in a way that leaves me completely open to her every suggestion, resisting nothing. Before I turn this back in on November 12, I am to add an update on the election, and God alone knows what I will write for that. I'm praying the outcome will allow for a triumphant ending to the book, rather than the utterly depressing "the fight continues."
My son's financee's dad said no matter the outcome, he will cry. If Biden wins, he says, he will cry for joy. "But if Trump wins," he added, "I will weep for weeks." I feel this down to my very atoms.
How could we be in such a state of vicious and vacuous criminality and disarray, people sick and dying, going hungry, hurting, and yet Trump still has a chance of stealing the whole damn thing? No one will ever convince me, if he wins, that the election wasn't stolen. Then again, the theft of it has been so obvious and ongoing, so blatant and systematic, I doubt anyone will try to convince me otherwise.
Turns out, the key ingredients for the most crass kind of power-grabbing corruption are a complete lack of anything resembling empathy and shame. If you have no empathy and can't be shamed, death can litter your wake and all you do is shrug and lie and step over the bodies, like the president and his henchmen.
Three more days.
Let's find the sunlight.