Your'e not a real author...

So said the email from a member of my writer's circle who is obviously not enamored with my work.
My response: It took that long to figure it out? If you figure writing in terms of having a big fat advance and all the word gorgeously curated, then you need to find a different URL, partner. I'm just a schmo(schmo-ette?) who takes the time every Sunday to type out what's transpired in her world that past week.
Which leads to the question of whether  blogs  are publishing. My answer is yes.
It used to be that being self published was the scarlet letter of publishing, a sign  that your work was not deemed good enough and you would be forever tainted with that stain and left with several cases of unsold books for your heirs to dispose of. Well, the world has changed. Much like software, we have a case of the Cathedral and the Bazaar . The Cathedral says that there is only  one source of righteousness, and woe be to those who stray. The Bazaar says come in and find what you like. To my mind, that's a better model - to give everyone an even field, and them let market have at it. It is harder to achieve an 'epic' success? yes, but more folks will have little taste of it, giving us a wider culture. Besides which, 'They' didn't think he could sing (Actually, they still do)


and yes, they are changes coming to my cycling habits. If you don't believe it, just see what I found at the curbside.

The classic at the Curbside

I wrote an article for another blog: 1948 Playboy. I wanted to spend some time here watching the comments flow in, fearing that some would post 'No Gurls Allowed'. That didn't happen, and I took a small step into the publishing world.
I took another step by going over to the Downtube and talked about getting a new bike, along with  the needs of some people I've run across at the prayer table -good on both sides!
Lastly, I had a sinus infection today, so I tried the traditional recipe: The hot toddy. It went OK, except for the fact that I wanted to get the whiskey that Mark Twain drank. I thought it was Marker's Mark, and that was what I came home with. Then I hit Wikipedia, and found out he liked Old Crow. oh, well/