"LAST NIGHT I DREAMT"

I am excited for the Pilcrow Lit Fest New Orleans Public Library auction of Rebuilt Books. I love hearing about the things some of you are creating. And, I realize that some folks want to donate but wanted to donate something else besides a rebuilt book.

Like today, for example, when I got a wonderful item in the mail from Nick Hornby. He yanked a page from his notebook, the page where he brainstormed which titles to use for Songbook, signed the back, and mailed it to me with the nicest card. What I'm saying, my dears, is that the auction is going to rule.

In other news, I had a dream last night that I stood in the building but just outside the sanctuary of an old church with a group of people-- some old familiar faces, some newer, some important people to me, some casual acquaintances-- and we listened to the sermon, that was heavy on the judgment, and we all stood there sort of quietly discussing how mean-spirited we found the sermon. There wasn't a sense of superiority, or judgment in return from us towards the people inside, but amazement, or something like it. We were just there out of some sense of duty (I think someone in the group had family in the congregation). End of dream. What do we suppose that is?