I’ve fallen in love. Truly, madly, deeply. I have no time to blog when I’m spending all my time with my new sweetheart. I am constantly stealing moments, here, there, and everywhere, trying to fit my love into my life. Who is it, this mad infatuation of mine? Who dares to take time away from home, hearth, job, and children? Who has so magically caught my attention, filling my every waking moment with thoughts, mulling and thinking, calling me away at a moment’s notice, and I follow, completely smitten? It is, it is, it is…a book. A story. A wonderful tale. I shouldn’t even start them, these love affairs. They are so all-consuming. I can’t focus on anything else. And this book, this author, he blows my mind with his attention to detail, his observation, his weaving to and fro. He’s a master, a true master. Sadly, he makes me question my own abilities as an artist. I contemplate the time it must have taken to weave a tale such as this. It’s utterly and fully brilliant. A work of genius. Pure mastery. I’m not capable of artistry such as this.

In any case, suffice to say I’m in love, and as long as this affair is going on, I likely will not be writing much here.