My wife pointed out that all this editing, revising, and soliciting of opinions on the internet has been putting a damper on my actual writing. She’s right.
So, no more preamble. No more 20 questions. To borrow from Peter Fox, it’s time to burn down the pile of excuses and snort the ashes like cocaine. The schedule will be irregular and heavily subordinate to real-life demands, but content is coming. A preview.
“I know this may be hard, but I’m going to need you to be as specific as possible. Who exactly are you accusing me of murdering?”
Typing is happening now. With luck, something should be polished up and ready shortly. Let us all hope it doesn’t suck, because frankly I’m too damn close to this thing to be truly objective about it.