You all deserve a more eloquent, writerly summation than that. It’s not you, really. Remember that leaky boat, the water sloshing over the gunwales, the frantic bailing? Writing this is really fun, but it turns out that when there’s about an hour every couple of days for writing, there’s no room in the boat for both this and that novel I’ve been talking about for the past four years.
My hat’s off to those who can keep a blog going day in and day out for years without starting to sound like a whiny imitation of themselves (another risk I’m afraid of running). Blogs are crafted writing, artfully artless, and fascinating.
But breaking down that fourth wall… maybe I’m just too old, and old-fashioned to take a sledgehammer to it on a regular basis. Is this self-indulgent? Is it mean-spirited? Is this the best use of my writing time? Those are just some of the questions that I’ve found myself asking over the past two months. Who knows what the answers are. Just asking the questions makes my brain hurt.
Wow, and I can delete everything here with the push of a button. Such power! My brain is really hurting now, so I’ll just say: Adios, for now. And thanks.