It comes to my attention that blogs inevitably become meta-blogs, that is, blogs about blogging; they are the medium most likely to search itself for meaning. Why do we blog, where do we blog, what is the point of blogging, who will read it anyway, are we alone, did we chose to be alone, what is a blog, what essential thing does a blog make? Yes, and today, this blog has become that, and in some ways, has entered its becoming. Is that to say that this blog will continue? Perhaps it will, perhaps it will, as it has been, remain as a sporadic outpost of unread entries. It will stay a paranoid diary (where nothing is disclosed, nor is it read) and continue as long as Google chooses to host it.
Furtive disclosure: This year, so far, has had ups and downs and a number of paradoxes. Yes, and one pleasant part of this year, one of the ups (but also one of the paradoxes) has been the publication of my novella by Black Lodge Press. Indeed, what a pleasure to hold one's own book and look through it with new eyes, eyes that wince now and again at the mistakes, but eyes that also widen and take a certain interested shape when surprised by a particularly interesting passage.
Thank You
