Radio Caller

I’m one of those people who sometimes gets up early and winds up running late. It happened today. This morning, I beat my alarm by fifteen minutes after trying to recapture lost sleep when my daughter loudly pokes around my bathroom stealing more of my makeup wipes. She forgot to take off last night’s makeup. Again.

After getting dressed, I pack a proper lunch rather than flinging random items into my bag. There is time for toasting a slice of cranberry walnut bread without burning it. I slather it with butter. My coffee doesn’t get left on the counter.

Today, I’ll have the computers and lights on before the line forms outside the library doors. I’m in a great mood because I’m not rushing.

On the radio, the host discusses books. Audio, e-books, or physical? I’m stuck at the tail end of a car line waiting to go. She announces the phone number. Should I try to call? It’s hard to get through. Nah…

I call.

Thank you for calling, all lines are… I try again. Nope. One last time and someone, a human, picks up. I give the screener my information and hold on the line. In all of my years of life, this is the first time I’ve made it through. Twelve year old me is flipping out as if my letter made it on Casey Kasem’s long distance dedication.

I have plenty of time as I settle in for my commute. I’m ready. But there’s another caller in front of me. I listen intently so I don’t repeat anything. Next caller. I’m nearing my school as I turn off the highway. 7:25. 20 more minutes before my official start time and I’m almost there. I should leave at this time every day.

The next caller is on. I turn toward my campus. They’re discussing book fairs and scrolling on e-readers and annotating and listening only to fiction audiobooks rather nonfiction because one must take notes. Another caller discusses purchasing only the classics and noticing how the books one reads as a kid often shows up as a career. Yes! I agree with you, but I can’t say anything because it isn’t my turn.

How long do I need to wait? Patience is not my thing. I snag my favorite parking spot. 7:35 and I’m still waiting. I have 10 minutes. This guy keeps going, but I want to rush him off the line because I need to get to work. I debate hanging up. I’m still waiting, you can hold out! I decide to end the call if there is someone else after this one.

Hi, Alice from Texas!

Finally. I almost have a Cindy Brady TV quiz show moment where she freezes when the camera light signals they’re on the air. I share how I avoided chores as a teen because I hate stopping in the middle of a chapter. Thirty seconds of fame. I figure I’m the last caller for the segment since the host commented, thanked me, and my phone gives me the call ended beep.

I gather my bags, loop my badge around my neck, and head toward the building. 7:47. Two minutes late and there’s already a line of kids waiting. All of the waiting to talk about books.

Monday, March 2, 2026

Sunday, March 1, 2026

Dear New & Returning Slicers-

How’s it going? I wasn’t sure I’d slice this year, but I’ve neglected my writing and I NEED it, so here I am.

Tuesday slicing tapered off for me, not for lack of ideas, but lack of follow through on my part. I’m not the morning type, so by the time all of the things that need doing get done, I’m the one who’s done. I’m hoping this helps me course correct.

Do I have a plan or strategy this year? I’m still mulling it over. I don’t want to say what it is yet-I don’t want to jinx it, even though I’m not the superstitious type. Except maybe I am, just a little.

I started my fall posts-when I “started” posting on Tuesdays again-writing about the last time I did something for the first time. I started (actually, my brain did this) overthinking and arriving to at the conclusion that it’s impossible for me to keep up with the last time I did something for the first time because something else would knock it out of place. However, the real me just said-NO ONE CARES-pick one of the many on your list. Perhaps those will be revisited for future slices.

I like to see where the writing takes me, if I let it. (Still working on that one). Last year was tough for me. I can’t figure out why. Here’s to LUCKY #7! I’m okay with not having a plan. Why change what’s worked for me? As me this on Friday and I’ll likely have a different answer.

One thing I’ve been up to is writing a letter every Sunday (except I skipped one already, so today I’ll write two. I found the Sunday Letter Project some time in December. I’ll sign up for the reminders as if I need reminding that Sunday is coming. Its’ the only solid day of structure I have (ooh, didn’t see this one coming-saving it for a poetential slice). The point is to write a letter to someone-anyone, even yourself, on paper with a pen or other writing stick. Mail it or keep it. Do this for a year. Slicers, you get #8. #9 has a yet to be determined recipient since I skipped a week.

Thing #2: I randomly chose The Correspondent by Virginia Evans as an audiobook read. It’s an epistolary and enjoyed peeking in on Sybil Van Antwerp’s life. Chick it out, you might like it. This book, paired with The Sunday Letter Project led me to listen to the nudge to get back on track with writing. I signed up for SOL’26 and here I am, writing letter #8, giving a nod to a book I finished, and writing my first slice. Cheers to year 7!

(This is where I raise my glass to to toast with an orange mimosa)

Sincerely,

Alice

P.S. I’m currently reading I See You’ve Called in Dead, by John Kenney. What are you reading?

Sunday, March 1, 2026