I'VE BEEN GONE SO LONG

Well, hello, Halloween! Hello, too, alliteration. Halloween, like Christmas in Macy's already, is coming close. Again, it's been awhile, and people who look in are dwindling drastically. I was warned. Weekly, at least, posts are a positive position when it comes to blogging. I deserve every ding I get if I don't post more. 

Lately, the writing life is wonderfully wild. Day after day I do it, and I do it at home, weaning myself from the coffee shop clutch. I'm picking up some pale poetry and pampering it with reams of rewriting. Still, too, writing and rewriting those stories that I think are good. PLUS, a big plus, I wrote a new story called Free Love. It's probably not finished. Nothing I write is finished until it's published. I can't cock an eye at anything unpublished without making changes. That means I have a lot of unfinished work on my hands, novels, short stories, essays and poetry. A screenplay or two and a couple of plays. I'm all alliterated out.

SKIPPING A BEAT IN THE BUCKET LIST SONG

Art by Clip, captions by George

Christmas is about to blow your budgets into town on the hooves of Credit Card and Debit. Following that, New Years Evening enters and closes the year under a lampshade chapeau in the carriages of drunken drivers. Probably all the book agents whose ears I seek will be drunk on those ears and worrying about next years shrinking list of publishing houses, so I've decided to stop sending query letters until a new year enters in a stinky diaper. It's been a long time since I've had to dangle a soiled diaper between my fingers while I pee. However, I'll continue to work away at the untitled film script. Even plan to work some on Christmas Eve day tomorrow. 

Just finished reading Japanese author Haruki Murakami's novel, After Dark. That novel, following Craig Lesley's Winterkill, made quite a collision of styles in my literary senses. Now embarking on a 2nd read of Steven Hawking's A Brief History of Time.

If I have any resolutions for the New Year, I'll try to be kinder to troubled people, trying to recall how I felt during those years when suicide was always in my thoughts, and I wished that people would be kinder to me.  It's a rough world for tender consciences.