Back when I switched over from my old blog to the current format, I remember a friend told me not to speak of personal things. "You're a professional now," she said. And yeah--that's true. But try as I might, I can't be anybody but myself and it's my blog. I have years of archives. Everything from trying to get published (ninety nine rejections on a single title) to sniffling over edits, and taking that first step toward doing a workshop.
I miss talking about stuff. There are a couple of blogs out there I used to read on a regular basis but stopped because there wasn't a break--just dry informational posts. Nice as those are I like the randomness of interacting with "people" and sometimes the blog gets so popular it's obvious the blogger can't keep up with the comments--and what's the point?
God knows I never want to get to the point I can't say hello to everyone.
It's been a long week of trying to stay on the straight and narrow. I came really close earlier today when I forgot about the hives and ate some ham. My entire hand turned into a lobster claw and I couldn't write. Luckily it went away after I calmed down and took a nap. Not that I want to trade Benadryl for self-induced narcolepsy.
I'm sadly behind on everything, although my house is finally coming together. Moving was a good thing. And this place is just too cool.