In the next forty-eight hours, I’ll be (a) taking a short breather and (b) manacled to the computer finishing the latest draft of Wrestling an Alligator. What this means is no blogging and no sex during a sizable portion of this time. Let it be noted in the great annals of history that I focused and did my duty, sacrificing great joys for questionable art.

I also have a tremendous email backlog to respond to. And if I haven’t responded to you yet, I plan on doing so sometime before Sunday. Needless to say, you folks are sweet, endearing, and I’m continually amazed by your effusive outpourings. Even that crazed Caitlin Flanagan from Wichita who wanted to cut one of my fingers off had nothing less than love and the best interests in his heart. I will get back to you all eventually.

Tom Gibson has broken the world record for continuously watching television. Gibson stayed up for two days, only stopping to go for 15-minute bathroom breaks every eight hours. He existed on a diet of sausage rolls, ham and cheese sandwiches, and sugary drinks.

It would be criminal for me to neglect mentioning that Carrie A.A. Frye is guest-blogging at Maud’s this week. Of course, the fact that she mentioned this place several times yesterday has nothing to do with the current plug. Whether she’ll regale us with an additional reference to her tangerine muumuu or ditties involving ancillary chromatic raiment (outside of hot pants and the red-sequined top) remains to be seen. For the nonce, Ms. Frye plans to instigate discussions on Ann Patchett’s recent memoir, shortly after addressing thirty or so people (some of them named Ted). To all the boys out there waiting for the scoop, pop in those Tic-Tacs and prepare to serenade the gal with some Villa-Lobos.