This is too good to pass up.  Someone has written my obituary!  I knew it was going to be a heart attack!  Got some of the facts wrong, like who’s the mother of my son, Tristan, but he spelled my name right.

Off to London for a week of Shakespeare, all the histories and Lear.  Back on the 22nd. 

  ” . . . my sagging face, an egg sculpted in lard, with goggles on - depressing, depressing, depressing.”

“The critical work of proofreading is a low-wage position.  Proofreaders ought to be among the higest [sic] paid in the field of publishing.”  I concur, but I can also add from experience that the copyeditor can catch the errors and the printer can muff the changes. 

“It’s fun to do bad things.”

If you’re in Boston on May 15, my friends Mary and Mark are reading at the Poet’s Moon Cafe.

The kids in Hastings writing short stories.  “You are grounded but we love you.” 

Living with the dead. That way the checks keep coming.  Never liked that couch much anyway.  Today’s short story waiting to be written. (thanks to Joe in Cheese [Texas])

Pal and Friday Night Writing Group member Neil Crabtree is a winner in this year’s MIllion Writer Awards, Notable Stories of 2007.   (thanks to Denise in Hollywood [Florida])