Where’s Shannon?

I feel like I’ve become Waldo (of “Where’s Waldo?” fame).  Like I’m hidden inside a bunch of crazy-busy consecutive still-shots with no moment of normalcy in the middle.  Waldo is never at home, in his PJs sipping tea over a crossword.  No, he’s always at the zoo where, just at that moment, pandemonium is breaking out.

It’s not really that bad (although a trip to the zoo sounds nice).  But, a lot has been going on lately.  I won’t bore you all with the details, but suffice it to say that the home-schedule has been altered a few times, and turned on its head once or twice.

I have also been focusing more on FindStuff2Read.com than on my blog.

Right now I feel like I may be at a crossroad (nowhere in life are the paths as clearly cut as a trail, but it would be nice, wouldn’t it?).  At this point, I can’t put the time I’d like into both FindStuff and my blog… at least not with any chance of finishing my own book.

So, I think I’m going to cut my frequency here down – at least for now.  Of course, if you want to contribute over at FindStuff2Read.com (say, book reviews) that would free up my time considerably. 

I’ll have to play with it, to see what works, but in the mean time, I thought I’d let you all know I haven’t died or anything. 

Religion in Writing

I had no idea, when I started writing, that so many people who are writers identify themselves as Christians, especially in their writing (as opposed to, say, mentioning it in passing on the “About” page).

Make Your Enemy Your Protagonist

You know those cartoons with the author at the book signing and the parents saying something like, “We’re sorry, but can you take us out of the book?”  Or perhaps the cartoons/signs/shirts that say something akin to, “Do not disturb the author or he’ll put you in the next book and kill you off.”

Aren’t we going light on these folks?

The Bicyclist & The Bird

I had to go to the grocery store. Nothing unusual there. I mean, I buy produce on a fairly regular basis. BUT… that day I needed lots of different stuff. So, instead of going to the local grocery store, I schlepped out to the local Wegmans. If you aren’t familiar with Wegmans stores, think what you would have if your regular grocery store had gotten hold of steroids before it hit puberty. Then, add a sushi bar, mini pizzeria, kosher deli, dessert bar, and cross it with Whole Foods. That’s Wegmans.