I've been away from my blog for so long, I almost forgot about it. It's that time of year I guess. The time to be too busy to remember your own name, life, thoughts.
I've been busy writing my Christmas story. It's called How to Love a Hotdog.
I'm very excited about How to Love a Hotdog. I mean I am so excited about it, I can't even say. I mean how does one love a hotdog? And I mean, really love a hot dog. A hotdog that is like no other hotdog?
Lot's of good things are happening. Karen Schubert's chapbook is due out soon. A little chapbook about all the places she lived, the lives she had as a child, and more. Much more. Karen is always much more. And in the best of all possible ways. The book is coming out from Pudding House.
Also, there is this wonderful essay by Kelly Bancroft called Boob Suit. No one writes like Kelly. She has this honesty that is beyond honesty. I love whatever she does.
Then Brady's Leap is playing for New Years Eve at that St. Michaels in Canfield. I love to hear them play.
My chapbook, Dear Professor, Do You Live in a Vacuum?, is out now from Subito Press.
And it isn't raining-snowing or doing anything yet. I love snow. I love snow. I hate that snow-rain mix. I am praying it will just snow . . . None of that half-way stuff.
And my daughter, Suzanne, is coming home Monday night. She was a banana recently. I won't bother explaining. But I might post a picture. So please pray that the horrible storm that is forecast has blown over, and the travel gods let her fly in safely.
And my son, Jimmy, is flying in from California, the land of milk and honey, this weekend. I can't wait.
Even though I love snow, most of the time I really do, I hate anyone who has the luxury to live in California where the skies are blue, and the weather is warm. They always gloat. It's disgusting. And it just isn't fair. So if you live out there, and the sun is shining, I don't want to hear about it.