Madness, despair, and beautiful fall weather

I�m still in a quandary about this writing competition and the entry I started. I really appreciate all your comments, and I am seriously considering them. There is no reason why I can�t write about my vulva. After all, it�s mine, and as Brin so aptly said, there�s a very strong connection between it and my mother-in-law�s wonderful grandchildren. However, that same woman, who really is the salt of the earth in so many ways, still believes, or at least chooses to believe, that her children were all virgins when they wed. There is nothing farther from the truth.

I guess I feel so strongly about this because my experience with v.v. is something I�ve been wanting to talk about ever since I discovered that my condition actually has a name and I�m not some freak or that everyone else is lying. I did get started on another entry in the creative non-fiction category, a really good true story, but I�m worried that I can�t make it reach 2,000 words. That�s a lot of words. However, I�m not going to count it out.

A friend suggested that I submit the other in the fiction category, since I�m changing all the names anyway. This is a distinct possibility. At the moment there is no real plot, it is just a third-person account of my experiences with this particular affliction. But if I think of it as fiction, I could add plot to it. Now all I have to do is come up with one. Ah, there�s the rub.

Anyway, the day is gorgeous. I walked to and from the university, attending Latin and teaching my baritone. F. Piano has tentatively agreed to accompany me next year in a recital I plan on titling �Songs of Madness and Despair�. I�ve already drawn up part of a programme which includes the mad scene from D0nizetti�s Lucia di Lammerm00r, Schubert�s Gretschen am Spinnrade and Mozart�s Der H�lle Rache. If you think of anything that I really ought to include, let me know.

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