So, I was blogging all the time and things were good and I was rockin’ the party. I was getting literally dozens of hits. I know. I was big time. Next stop, Vegas, baby.

And I had the idea that blogging five days a week wasn’t a big deal. I could do this. I had help from the wonderful and dynamic Chris Devlin. Everything was coming up roses. And then summer hit. And I started traveling. And real life happened. And I was working on three books, one published, one in the final stages, and one a preemie little thing that I adore. And blogging dropped off into the void. Goodbye, Mr. Bond.

And now I’m having trouble getting back onto the blog habit and I’m even having trouble getting the gumption to schedule interviews and do a lot of things I was doing. I’ve gone back to writing. Like real writing. Like fiction.

I like to blog. It’s like exhibitionist journaling and I’m down with that. It’s kind of a nice break from normal journaling because heck, I’ve journaled the hell out of myself and how often can I write, “I didn’t eat well today and I’m watching too much T.V. and I probably need to get back on the wagon.” Yeah, it would be like reading Bridget Jones’ Diary, with her weight, cigarette consumption, and eating woes for twenty years.

But there are only so many minutes in the day and I only have so much energy. And I kind of like sleeping. Not enough to pursue serious sleeping but enough to miss it when I don’t have it.

So long story short, I’ll still blog, but not five days a week and not with the mania that I once did. I have books to sell, stories to create, and sleep to, er, sleep.

So, World, you’ll just have to enjoy me when you get me.