Something happened on the way to June. Well, and July. Life got busy - as it always does in May - and then I got tired. As I always do in May. When these conditions exist to this degree simultaneously, a curious phenomenon occurs: they collide like a supernova to create a version of me usually more fiction than fact, a bit of an avatar come to dwell in the real world. This pseudo-me is weary and introspective (even more than usual), and I find that writing "out loud" even loses its appeal.
Now, make no mistake - I've still been writing. But writing as I believe we all do before any text arrives to print. I'm writing in my head. My imagination. Sometimes laughing out loud or crying in the quiet while I take it all in, chew it all up, and figure out the best from the better while spitting out the bad. For me, writing is organic like this: it's why I think so many pop culture authors compose essentially one great book and then commercialize themselves for the 18 that follow. You've got to let it breathe. Just open the cork and let it sit. You'll know when it's time to take a sip because you'll finally have something you want to say.
So I fell off the blog, but now I'm back on. And you'll find a bit of back, I'm afraid, as I document the better - after all, it IS the better. And, you know, it's rather good to take a sip...it tastes better after the wait.
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