NOTHING TO SAY AND I'M SAYING IT.

Been a while, I'm going to rightly or wrongly, assume that somebody noticed.

There has been "things" ( you know, six legs, slimy, sort of greenish..) going on in my absence.

I've finished copy-editing the text and placement of said text for the book. As of this writing it's being re-worked to the highest standard that can be managed with a great deal of talent and a very modest budget. Wonders have been worked regardless. The whole editing thing was weird though. I can see the value of another set of eyes during this process as I've been staring at this book for a very long time now. But then again, who better to do it? I know just what I want from this thing and I must put on a different hat in this case. if it's screwed up, I blame nobody but myself. As it should be I think.

But it good to me......onward. Still keeping the fingers and other sundry digits crossed for the April release.

I promise that the next novel will run much smoother. The learning curve has been just nuts. I've used more than one air-sick bag over this. (the author makes a very rude noise.)

The sickness thing has been largely cleared up...though as I write, I'm recovering from a common head cold. It's been a very long, very sick winter. I for one will rejoice when the poppies bloom again.

And, very soon, I'll actually be painting again after far far to long a time. And this time, I'll have the time to approach the act with both the time and the will to do something at the top of whatever game it is I play with myself. No more rushing because I have to be doing something to make the rent or whatever. Though I do.

Who am I kidding here? There is never, ever enough time. Or money. God I hate money. In this country it's the only crime that's unforgivable on a very deep cultural level: the crime of having no money.

Geez I'm a happy guy today eh?

Remember, question authority. You know you want to.

M.Z.