Three Hundred and Counting

This is my 301st post since I started blogging six years ago.  I have been trying to maintain a weekly schedule, as I've explained on several occasions, but occasionally have fallen off the wagon.  Much of what I have written concerns writerly pain; the worry that the muse won't return, that I are writing crap (usually half way through my second editing pass), that no one understands how difficult it is to write, the joy of acceptance and the agony of rejections, and the continuing battle with the muse - an unforgiving bitch who demands endless rewrites and corrections.

I've also dipped in other areas of momentary concern and not connected to writing at all.  These were thankfully few and probably reveled much about my political and cultural leanings.  So be it: I write these posts for my own pleasure and if others manage to extract a bit of Schadenfreude then I am happy.

So, how do I embark on this next phase of postings?  The answer is probably that I will stumble along as I have in the past, bitching about the unwillingness of words to assemble themselves as I wish or the vagaries of magazine editors, and concern that somehow I am out of whatever loop others participate in.*  The latter is hard when the majority of my time is either spent trying to have a life, staring at a keyboard for hours, volunteering for SFWA, or making occasional forays into intimidating conventions filled with scary people who expect me to entertain them.  Better to have the internet as my barrier and companion.

Don't expect any revelations, wisdom, or anything  other than what I have been providing for the past three plus years.  Stay seated in the back of the boat as I continue to pole upstream against the current as I bitch about the water flowing past too swiftly.  

*Yeah, grammer is another problem

#SFWApro