excerpt from Heather's journal

July 13, my 38th year.

I don’t come across famous people very often, but today may have been an exception. I am a woman who sits quietly and waits for life, but today I may have approached it. I went out of my way because I saw something I was interested in. There was this woman sitting in the waiting room at the doctor’s. I had never seen her before, but she looked strained. I thought maybe she was there because she expected bad news. I didn’t want to ask, but I needed to somehow. I thought maybe I could offer comfort. I am a cancer survivor, after all. It was clear she was skeptical about being approached, but I ignored it. I asked her questions and she was hesitant about giving too much information. But maybe it was my face. She warmed up to me.

Turns out she’s a writer. Novels and poems and things, aside from her job as a columnist. She had published a novel, so I asked for the title. It’s called The Green Sweater, by Rachel Metz. When I left the doctor’s I went straight to the bookstore. I’ve been reading since I came home. I am filled with confusion and insight and insatiable curiosity. Her book has crowded my mind with ideas. I want to ask her more questions. But I suppose I should finish the book first.