Book addiction

Velma's words have fallen prey to my need to make books with my female friends' words (and images). It started last year with Chela, and then Jami, and then Joana. This last book came to me last night and I fine-tuned it today, the most simple of all. I'm not sure if this is a big warming up to or a big procrastination away from my own words. Small miracles, though: today I wrote some. Maybe it has something to do with walking out in the yellow leaves, on dirt, passing community gardens and a baseball diamond. It came out in the middle of Anil's Ghost, which I just finished. Tragic and beautiful, lovely and arresting, totally Ondaatje.