I guess this is a blog. My apologies. Last thing we need, another blog. But I don’t write much anymore, mostly because writing is such a pain in the ass, the mere thought of it makes me wonder why anyone would ever want to be a writer.

Thankless work, tough as hell to do well, which is compounded by all the automated and accelerated tools and technology we have as of this writing. I speak of computers and voice recognition and spell check and think ahead editors and auto-completion and next word suggestion that thinks better than I do, but I bet people were bitching in similar fashion when the quill pen was introduced. “Hell, anyone can be a writer if you can kill a turkey and squeeze some berry juice.”

I still get the urge though.

To throttle a turkey and squeeze berries, I mean. Not to write, you realize, which sucks.

Are you bummed out because you can't change the world? Maybe your world is too big.