Writers Writing: Kurt Vonnegut

I don’t even need an alarm anymore. Jane is probably awake. The kids are probably awake. Over there they are awake. It is still dark here. I can work with that. When I got here on the Guggenheims’ dime, I had to use an alarm for a while. My body decided to take its time to adjust to Europe time. I keep think about Dresden again. Hopeful something descent will come out this time. I have already wasted enough paper. The hotel room looks like it is infested with crumpled sheets. I crawl out of bed and sit myself in front of my type writer.

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