heat sets in


dear reader

September 2026

At risk of boring you with my bird stories, we had a wren (again, my bird identification abilities are rudimentary at best) who visited us around 8:20 p.m. every night for a few weeks. It would sing a little song for a little and then leave just before dark. I wish it could have kept visiting but nature is ephemeral, and I’ll take whatever is offered.

At the beginning of the month, I sent my manuscript off to my agent. I sincerely, full-bodily hope it’s close to submission ready. I would love to have something to offer readers. I also want to get a manuscript to another stage of life instead these files piling up in my wake, never reaching more than five sets of eyes.

Anyway, I have a new story nipping at the edges of my thoughts, an idea that I may be able to work in bits of an old/unfinished manuscript. That’s always exciting, to be able to incorporate discarded projects so that work isn’t in vain (it never really is). But the story might also lose steam along the way. It's not extraordinarily unique. In fact, it may be too close to a dystopia but that's increasingly is becoming our real lives so maybe I can't even call it that. I may write it, just to see, just to have another draft packed into a file that's getting too heavy.

The days are shortening even though it’s still in the triple digits here. The grass is yellow and the trees are parched. It's easy for me to feel tired of my environment. But I finally watched the PBS documentary about Mary Oliver (highly recommend) and am trying to find the beauty around me.

With love,

Thao

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