Revision Transmission Four

Into the void/connecting the interlocking pieces

Five days ago I hit my head on a metal beam while ascending the stairs leading to my apartment. The beam had been left there, negligently, by the painters painting the building. It was the second time I’d hit my head on a metal beam in less than a month— the first time they promised: no more beams left around after work hours. Yet there was the beam, invisible above my head until I slammed into it, dropping my groceries so I could sit on the step and wait for the dizziness to pass.

Things happen like this. Suddenly. Suddenly I am conversing with a lawyer and getting checked out by a doctor, wondering how I will manage to move my things on Sunday, if I am going to be tired forever; if my brain is okay.

Suddenly I am meeting with my editor and agent, discussing the next draft of my book— what needs to be cut and what needs to be rearranged. How to rearrange the structure. The publication date (spring 2025). Suddenly the book is real and going to be real. Suddenly we’re talking about pic…