Took this pic last night on the 1 train platform in Columbus Circle less than 100 yards from Juilliard  She sounded lovely and smiled as people dropped in change or crumpled up dollar bills, even though she’s concentrating so fiercely in this particular image.

violinAs writers trying to publish, we must ask ourselves: what is OUR hula-hoop? The prose is perfect, the story’s incendiary, and yet there’s something missing, some element of the literary game still needing a final polish, something that could take you from being a violinist on a subway platform to a violinist on a subway platform who can hula-hoop and play at the same time. In rush hour. In Columbus Circle, one of the business stops in Manhattan. How do we writers find the next level? How do we find our hula-hoop?