“

Ronna said, “Just when I think I’m getting deeply involved with you, you show me why I shouldn’t.” And that’s good, as far as I’m concerned. At this point I’d almost rather be friends and forget about sex.

“

Ronna admitted that she is jealous of him even if he’s totally straight; she’s worried that I’m going to become Manhattan-trendy and start shooting heroin. She said she’s been wanting to ask me if I’m in love with him. “I am, a little,” I told her.

“

Wesley phoned this morning to say they had a meeting at Taplinger yesterday and they’ve decided to publish my book in the spring. “That means we’ve got to move fast,” he told me. I can barely believe it. When Wes first mentioned them having a meeting, I thought surely they’d decide not to do the book at all.

“

Marc’s car was found in a lot filled with wrecks right on East 56th Street and Foster Avenue – the very place Marc told me was a haven for stolen cars when we passed it last night.

“

The more I think about fame, the closer I inch toward it, the more frightened I become of changing into someone I wouldn’t approve of. Yet I consciously, desperately, seek fame – all the while knowing this will probably make me unhappy.

“

Avis says that her heart is still in the late ’60s: “That’s where Germany’s at now, compared to the States . . . It could also be a problem of mine.”

“

Sometimes I wonder what will become of Libby. Twenty years from now, will she be a fortyish hippie, a relic of the 60s? Most of us, it seems – me, Libby, Mason, Avis, Teresa – don’t seem to be on solid ground yet.

“

But the best news came from George. He wants to use the $1500 CCLM grant to fund a special issue of X, A Journal of the Arts devoted entirely to a collection of my work, a 40-page chapbook of my stories.