On recommendation of one of the members of the "new writing group" I got a copy of

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. Having shaken the notion embedded in me brain that it was an autobiography of Charlie Parker, and figured out that it was another one of those "writers on writing" books, of which so far my repertoire consists of Stephen King's On Writing (which I heartily recommend, it's the only thing of King's I've read). I like her style, it's breezy if a trifle adolescent in its studied flippancy, and so far it appears to be an affectation to hide the fact that there's serious cogitation underlying the verbal vaudeville. All of which is a perfect fit for me, it's what I'm trying to perfect. The introduction fit my 30-minute treadmill workout perfectly; it's on the kindle and will be my workout accompaniment for as long as it lasts.