I should be writing, something fictional anyway, instead of this blog post. Way of the world I guess, procrastinate until I feel some inspiration knock me in the forehead with a baseball bat or maybe a whiffle bat with the aerodynamic holes in it. By gosh I just can't seem to find my way today, I think it is in the air. Either that or I need to turn my internet off and just force myself to do something.
That sounds vaguely like a plan, either that or I might go read State of Fear from Micheal Crichton and let his ghost try to inspire me into the great writing that I know I have lurking under the surface. Unfortunately that greatness is camera shy and likes chocolate chip cookies while they are still warm with a cold American beer in its hand.
Maybe I will go make some cookies--
Loving Hard Through the Horror of Being Five
1 week ago