There is really nothing to say. I just wanted to bring you in to my small domestic life. These days that includes cornbread, espresso, and some concoction for dinner. Always involves a cast- iron skillet with melted butter....
Not yet a vegetarian there will be meat. I have just begun to bore you with the small details of daily life.
Soon I will get back to Judith and Junior Blue. We're not through with him yet. The man needs meat on the bone, back story so to speak. He is husband number three. I have skipped husband number one and two. Nick, the history professor, has requested an accounting of husband one and two. Someday. Maybe. If I'm feeling really brave.
I thought I was writing it here, but like the good little student I am, I was actually writing it as a new post under Savage Stories. It's called "The End of Love." Labeled Dorothy Parker, Leonard Cohan, and Stella.
Since I did this in such a short time, it probably needs editing. All writers need editors. I am my only editor. This is not ideal. If you want to help, jump right in there with the comments. If I misspelled something, despite the functioning spellcheck, feel free to point it out, but please be specific. Randal is a perfectionist in his own writing. He trusts himself, or else his wife is his editor. I need a good editor. And an agent, and a publisher who would provide the sorely needed editor.