Highly Irregular

What’s going on in the blogosphere? What’s happening in the literary world? Is George Bush out of office yet? I voted for the other guy, didn’t I? Or was that a dream?

These are the queries that come to mind as I stick my head above the ether, checking in on this place just after Bondgirl’s grand interview, which I knew about but truly astonished me in its final form. I’m here to announce a fundamental problem that I truly hadn’t anticipated a few months ago: namely, a new and very active life.

The new life is good, don’t get me wrong. Despite a rapidly receding hairline, I feel sexier than I did six months ago, and, on the whole, I’d have to say that I digest my meals better. (And here I was thinking it would get worse.) But this new existence comes at the expense of regular posts to this blog. Those who’ve watched Return of the Reluctant (and the other edrants incarnations) may have been taken with the prolix prolificity. I’m really not certain I’m the same person today than the punk who went literary gonzo last December. Something about turning thirty. Something about diving head-first into theatre. Something about setting goals, making it happen, and recalibrating my priorities to also encourage unexpected greatness in others, take chances, and demand the most out of myself. Something about, well, leaping into research on the second play, working to extend the run on the first, and otherwise broadening this lovely plane I’ve been building up.

I don’t even hate Dave Eggers anymore.

I’m still reading, but obviously not enough to count. I’m still writing, but I value it more.

The problem is that I’m doing. A lot, actually. And something had to fall by the wayside. So I counted all the treasures in the chest, and scaled it down to what was needed. Sadly, Return of the Reluctant was one of the gems that had to be thrown overboard — even though I liked it. Or, at the very least, put in a semi-retired state.

So I’m here to say adios, muchachos. Either that or call me in Tijuana. You’ll see me on the backblogs. You may even see me here. If any of the Superfriends are interested in sleeping over at the beach house, they’re more than welcome here. But me? Sorry, folks, but the muses sweet-talked me.


  1. I second Beck’s emotions … but with the conflict of being glad to hear that such a good compadre is feeling fulfilled and happy and all Renaissance-y. xo’s follow you, Ed, wherever you go.

  2. Best wishes and here’s hoping for your continued success. Yeah, we’ll all miss you, but we’ll understand. To paraphrase somebody famous, “I’d rather be happy than blog, any day.”

    (You will let us know when you have new plays in production, won’t you?)

  3. You can’t be happy–think of your readers!

    Except, well, this reader likes the new happy healthy Ed. Even if she can’t get her usual RotR fix anymore. So take that new attitude and run, and baby, you’ll be a star real soon. Real, real soon.

  4. i’m with jimmy: noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

    my morning blog-check will never be the same.

    but good luck with everything, of course.

    as a designated superfriend who has yet to post here, i’m hoping this space will be kept open for that eventuality. in fact, i like the idea of a group superfriends blog in this space. any interest?

  5. Ah, but can we be sure it’s the end? Well, it won’t be the end of Ed’s creativity, that’s for sure. Best of luck in your pastures new, Ed!

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