A friend and I were noticing the other day how some writers can be so self-centered. About how the reader can be left to wonder what the writer was going for. Was it important just to hear her own voice? Was she getting something off her chest? Sometimes it seems as if the audience just isn’t there, in the writer’s consciousness.
I want not to do that, not with any post in this blog. Though I am aware that the invitation otherwise is all too tempting.
Anyway, it’s mid-February, the groundhog saw his shadow, so winter looks like it could be here awhile. I wanted to share with you a gift Barney gave me the other day.
Cue SFX here.