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.
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