I don’t like to rehash what’s already been stated (actually, I don’t care), but there’s still a frontier out there, and I long for it. I can almost taste the sweet nectar of its grapevines, hear the evocative roaring of the friendly grizzly bear, and smell the body odor of nearby campers. Yes, the west is out there, and I’m not the only one longing for it. Call it manifest destiny, or call it a boredom-induced stupor, but whatever it is, I’m helpless to resist Nature’s seductive siren-song.
So I’m going forth, and don’t expect me to return on any side less than the flip side. I’ll be back once I’ve opened the Pandora’s box marked “liveliness,” and no sooner. In the meantime, I expect my fellow authors to hold down the fort in my stead. I’m nearing my Rubicon, and once it’s crossed, there’s no going back.
Expect a surprise sometime next week. Let’s just say, I’m prepared to give the masses what they’ve been yearning for.