Everyone has a vice, truly everyone, even that mild mannered little old lady at the bus stop with her bible in hand has one, trust me. Some days mine is simple, Gin and a good book, other days it’s more complex; it’s fulfilling that thing that lives inside of me and drives me. It’s the type A personality gene that tugs at me when I am doing something like sitting down to watch tv – it says, ‘you are wasting time, do something constructive and only half watch the show you’ve been dying to see’. In a nutshell, it’s annoying but also pretty effective too. After all, instead of just sitting around watching old episodes of Roswell, I wrote A Marked Past while watching those old shows.
So my obsessive, hyperactive mind has to wonder, what does it mean that every day on my way home for the past two years I’ve seen a red winged black bird sitting on a fence post?
Does he have some deep meaning that I have yet to discover?
Does he live in the tall grass around there?
Is he a messenger from the publishing world telling me to get out there?
Will he still be there in Oct when my book is released?
Any ideas?
Here’s a pic of the little guy
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