MY FICTION STORY AND WHAT IS REAL

Boise has another look for a Christmas card this morning. Fresh, I suppose, for the roads on our compound are not yet cleared. At least I can stay indoors today, but tomorrow I must go out again. Before I saw the snow, I had decided to have lunch in my apartment for a terrific reason. The short story in progress is nearing the finish line because a whole wallop of bolts from the blue struck. You may remember my saying if I don’t cry at some point in the writing, I feel a story is not interesting enough for others to read. This one is really touching—this author believes—and I have cried at my make-belief plotting. I may record it and have a reading group here listen to it and critique it for me, before I send it out to an editor. That is, of course, without their learning the name of the author. It is highly dramatic when read properly and this is the only way to get that across: I myself must ♥ emote.

This fiction story has kept me not exactly keeping up with the news, but it sounds terribly disturbing and distressing. I knew at the time this president was wrong in his eagerness to bring our troops out of Middle East. He was truly ignorant of war and how it works, and how to plant democracy in such a place. It takes time. He is totally unsuitable to hold the highest office in the world. What a mess he is making of it! And he called himself the “fourth greatest president,” remember?

A new book is about to come out that evidently will showcase this president’s mistakes, written by former Defense Secretary Robert Gates accusing the president of evincing too little enthusiasm for the U.S. war mission in Afghanistan and sharply criticizing the vice president’s foreign policy instincts. With the White House already bristling about this memoir, the reading should be a must for every loyal American. ♥