This weekend, I shall write something.
Since finishing Burying Brian, I've been sitting smug-faced with feet up and enjoying, so I tell myself, a well earned rest. But it's time to write something again—a short story, perhaps; I have one or two anthologies in mind that I think I'd like to try for.
This weekend, we'll put up the Christmas tree and adorn the house with lights. I love it when we're lit up. It feels like the magic of Christmas is not so far away then.
I'm on twenty-four-hour call for the day job this week, too. I hate call with a passion; it rarely feels like I'm not working, even if there are no calls.
But, such is life. I'm off now to write…
Trumpet Strudel Mineshafts
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*TRUMPET STRUDEL MINESHAFTS*, my second book of plays, has been published
after a long delay. Eighteen short plays, absurdist comedies, rambunctious
whims...
1 week ago

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