The Days Are Better

…The nights are still so lonely.

I live in Hamilton, a small city on the western tip of Lake Ontario up here in Canada. It’s not the most flattering city, although it’s got its charms. I’d love to show them to you, but we mostly take them inside for the winter months, which are fast approaching.

I’ve lived here most of my life, and have really made no serious efforts to leave my home town. And yet, there is a strong pull from the south east. i suffer from those romantic notions most novel writers do, that the most perfect city for a novellist to live in, on this continent at least, is New York City. It’s a weird thing to admit, but I often catch myself thinking it’s the place I’m meant to be doing this.

The thing is, it’s a crock. Sure, there are writers in NYC, but they all have day jobs and small apartments and lots of high expenses that would crush me if I didn’t likewise get a great paying job, for which there are few available for someone with my rather variegated work experience.

But still, the dream persists. I know my agent would appreciate it, that’s for sure.

Anyway, it’s about time to call it a night. Hope you fine folks have had a good day. Take care of yourselves out there. It’s a crazy world these days. We need to look out for each other.

Eddie.

Don't be shy. Tell me what you really think, now.

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