I am not writing much that’s new, these days. It does not necessarily mean that I am dead. What happens is that I am happily sitting in front of an advanced draft of my manuscript: I Used to Be French: An Immature Autobiography. I am proofing. It’s not boring. It’s fairly exciting. I am reading my manuscript on real paper instead of on-screen. It’s in good shape. It’s almost all grown up.
Writing is very time consuming and proof reading is slow work. The closer the draft is to a final draft, the more carefully one has to chase typos and spellos, and missing phrases, and whatever one wrote after one glass too many of something or other and that makes no damned sense under the crude daytime light.
I hope an agent or a publisher will materialize out of nowhere. It’s happened before but it was no a very good match. If you are interested, send me an email at: firstname.lastname@example.org
I have also discovered a new avocation whose products do not find their place on this blog, or at least, not right away. I am trying my hand a writing micro-stories of light porn for females. It’s a big challenge, of course, since I know little about women and almost nothing about sex.
I keep hoping that my good friend Brandon, founder and editor of Notes On Liberty will fill this interval in my blog writing by pulling something relevant and still fresh-smelling out of my archives. He does that very well.
Right, now is Martin Luther King Junior ‘s Day. It leaves me indifferent because the celebration is so damned pious. It almost makes me forget what an extremely brave man he was. And what a giant orator. I wonder if he would approve of the boring, uninspired celebrations in his name. I doubt it.