The greyhound is snoring in the comfortable chair. The Morkie likewise on her mat.

And here I am.

Returning, for the first time here, to these quick daily pieces, to force myself into writing online again, to regain a degree of comfort with sharing thoughts, of clearing out my brain before the day’s thousand-word commitment to my next book begins. To write about something else; to act as a counterweight to the daily battle with perfectionism, uncertainty, insecurity, and the occasional glimmer of hope that is the act of writing; as I told my wife, if I knew the mental toll this game of wordplay would take on me, I’d still do it all over again. And again and again.

I’ve written far too many of these introductory posts. Will do everything I can to stick with it——the challenge, the discipline; to carve out my own little garden in the weed-field of the internet, to cultivate it, to tend it.

Current read: Plato’s THE REPUBLIC.

(TW)