It seemed as if I disappeared, didn’t it? I did, but I found myself in a closet sucking on a pacifier and drooling. Eh. It wasn’t the first time that I’ve found myself hiding from my responsibilities. I once found myself hiding in an ocean wave off of the coast of Texas complaining to Poseidon of the ills of being mortal.
When I was about eleven years-old, I looked for myself for hours on a hot August day in Central Texas. I was in the woods talking to a mound of fire ants about the dangers of talking to strangers. Odd, isn’t it, what and who a child can befriend without judgment?
Then there was that time down in Marion, Illinois… Never mind. Well, okay, and that time in West Virginia when I lost myself in a staring contest with a yellow spider. That really was about the only time that I was glad that I found myself.
In truth, this is not the first time that I’ve played the disappearing act, shucking my obligations as writer of blogs. Or poetry. Or fiction. Or Memoirs. Pfft. I’m a pro.
I especially tend to start my shucking around the time a set of characters starts dishing the heat. I have a problem with fire, you see. And I really don’t like being told what to do. I’m in such a predicament as we speak. Er, or type and read. Whatever.
So I’ve been hiding from my characters again. Just as I finished an outline for Chicago Down, complete with a little tear-jerker moment that I can’t wait to add to the manuscript, I fled the scene like dirty cop on a wild horse. Oh…what? You liked that descriptive sentence? Me too!
Anyway, this blog was not only to let you know that I am back, but also to amuse you a bit. Be happy. Ride wild horses. Or drink Wild Turkey. Whatever floats your holey canoe.
Thanks for reading!
Oh P.S.: If you’re a lady local to the Chicago area, especially the Southwest area suburbs, check out my Events page, I’ll be doing an book signing on June 3, 2017, in Joliet, IL, at a ladies-only event.