Well, I've been a bit absent lately, as I was waging an honorable but ill-fated war against Blogger. Fine, I lost: I set up a Google account and am back in business.
So, like, what's up with you guys? Are you aware that today is the kickoff of National Novel Writing Month (aka NaNoWriMo)? A hundred and fifty years ago, when I was still a city-dweller, I participated in this event and cranked out a nonsensical 60,000-word yarn entitled Thinly Veiled. It was published on my office printer and bound in the finest vinyl binder I had on hand. When I was in the midst of writing this, my only completed novel to date, I followed a couple of simple guidelines: (1) when the action lags, add a talking animal, and (2) if you can't tie up all the threads at the end, make everyone die in a blimp accident. Yes, I agree that this sounds more appealing than anything I've written since, though it isn't quite as entertaining as the Amorous Adventures of Alcoa Ruskin.
I'm considering participating again this month, given that I have four (4) incomplete novels just itching to be finished so that we can definitively say that they were a waste of time instead of merely suspecting it. Anyone with me? If not, what about having this blog participate in National Blog Posting Month (aka NaBloPoMo)? That means a post a day for the month of November, which hath only 30 days. We can do it!
In other news, we still live in Iowa. We are continually claiming that we are on the verge of moving to LA, or SF, or Austin. Politicians are swarming the state, and we are looking forward to caucusing. We're undecided and open to lobbying/bribery if you'd like us to caucus for your preferred candidate, Mike Gravel. When we go on walks with our very handsome baby son, we pass many of your old domiciles and think wistfully about the snows of yesteryear. And then we go home and watch TiVo. And then everyone dies in a blimp accident.