Kris and I spent last weekend at the coast with Micahel and Laura and their two children. I found a great used bookstore, but I also found time to indoctrinate the kids in the joys of comic books.
I plan to walk the Portland Marathon this weekend. Anyone care to join me for part of the way?
Kris calls this fixation on the things of youth “childish”, and she means it with the negative implications of that word. I don’t agree with her. I think it’s fine to like the things we enjoyed as children.
Autumn here, and that means clam chowder weather. I made my first batch of the season tonight. It seems especially good, so I’m setting down the modifications I made to my base recipe. If I’m lucky, I’ll be able to replicate this batch again in the future.
I nodded in agreement as I listened to Mike’s story. I was suddenly able to articulate something I’ve been feeling lately. “Actually,” I said, “I’m happy now, too. This may have been the best summer of my entire life.”
Because two weeks have gone by without a single post here, I instead commit a blogging sin: I write about how little I am writing.
I thought it would be useful to set down a record of the process. A lot of people have questions about what goes into writing and publishing a book. Maybe my experience can help answer some questions.