Days Walking Down Sniper Alley

I am sorry there has been a lack of entries recently. There are entries I want to write – among them ‘Geno Washington’s Fight Club’ and ‘This is how Mr. Grasso Kicks Out the JAMS’ – but life has been difficult. I have moved away from ‘slashing my wrists’ in public (seemingly much to the annoyance of some readers), but I am currently experiencing somewhat unravelling circumstances.

I feel like I have spent days walking down Sniper Alley. When bullets strike too close, turning stone to violent storms of dust inches from your face, there is a gradual erosion of the soul. This is one reason for the dearth of new material on English Dreaming, English Rain during August.

Although I have my ‘funny book’ going to Frankfurt, I have also been working on the proposal for a project with the working title Counterfeit Truth. When you pour words professionally, sometimes there are not enough left for personal use. This has also been a factor hitting the blog over the last couple of weeks.

While I have no intention of whinging or dwelling on it, the final factor in the ongoing drought is my health. Trying to write, trying to forge the words and bind them together when pain takes all your strength is one of the ultimate acts of resolve. Imagination and will is the root of all magic. I understand that on days like these.