Oooo looky here, it's been two years, two uninterrupted years of writing

Two June's ago, in 2019 I wrote a blogpost here. And then another. And another. The next month I wrote a few more. The following month, which was August, I wrote a lot more, 29 to be exact. September was 60, October was a freakin' hundred. That's how it started, this madness, this undying need, desire, compulsion to write. Write, just write, no matter, find out some free time and use that to write. Write to define yourself, write to discover yourself. Write to improve writing -- hahah that never happened unfortunately.

Here we are now, two years later. It feels fuckin' fantastic. I've kept at this consistently for all this time. And not just that, in respectable volumes. I've had lows and highs, but never too far away, and the machine has kept chugging along. This is a marathon, to use the sick ole' metaphor, and the journey goes on. Nobody stop me!

Where to from here? I'm still angling for a book, at some point soon, though ideas are easy to come by, the execution remains hidden. Or should I say, I appear to choose to not execute on the 'bookwriting' idea, though I desperately wanna. So that's on the table. 

And the 'blind date' review series, they're a-coming, dotcha worry too much my babies.

I'd promise, normally that I'd get my shit together, improve my writing, edit better, all of that BS, but lets be real, we don't want big fat liars here. Which is not to say I'm not going to do any of that, just that no more promises that I might be unable to keep in the future.

I'll get back to regular fiction writing, that's on the cards, soon. Like 'this week' soon, not in an indeterminate period in the future.

But like, lots of good things are happening, and have happened, and I've stuck around thick and thin with this blog. Fifteen years long. Ain't too shabby huuh.

Happy happy.