Resume your course, o my story, for this aging monk is lingering too long over marginalia. -- Umberto Eco, The Name of the Rose
Dear baby blog of mine,
Did you think I'd abandoned you? I picture you, this past week, reading all those online articles about the blogging burnout rates, statistics for how quickly we frail people realize: I don't really want to write something every day.
Did you suspect me? Did you think I wouldn't come back?
Don't worry. I've already proven myself as a long-term blogger. No, my failings this past week were Failings of the Bookish variety. I stepped up my drafting schedule, and have logged over 5000 words in my next rewriting project, and they're giving me plenty of challenges and demands of their own...
Oh, but you're zoning out already, aren't you? Or seething with jealousy, and so you feign indifference...
Stop seething. It's okay, I promise. Maybe I started Bookpie too soon, or maybe I didn't.
But do you really think that after all that time snapping the perfect bookish picture and the loveliest lattice top I could find... after all that, would I really leave you? Absolutely not.
Can you bear with me? This whole writing life is one big juggle game, and I'm still dodging the siren songs of the library. But I'll always come back to you. Always.