I feel rotten.
I’ve abandoned you all.
I haven’t signed into this wordpress account for a very long time and now that I have, I see you. You’re all still here. Not only that, a few new faces to boot. Um, that came out wrong.
Clearly, I am unworthy.
Obviously, you deserve more.
Alas, it only makes sense that I extend a V.I.P invite to the site I created first. Initially, I began Hazy Shades of Me (you can find the link below the photo at the end) in the spirit that it would be my everything. A catchall. Its name, an explanation. And hazy it was. A murky cocktail of fiction and non; essays, short stories, poems, snippets and life.
Slightly too hazy, I worried.
Thus, I reasoned, The Wrought Writer would be a place to unhaze.
It would be a home for my fiction. A separate place to house and hone my short stories. But you know what? It’s hard to run two blogs. I laugh heartily when I think of a time I thought I might open a third. Luckily, a few very sober people asked me if I was popping magic mushrooms. And I might have been. A third blog would have been disastrous for me. It would have diluted and weakened. Spread me too thin. Turned me into a puddle of oatmeal doused in too much milk.
So thank you for the drug test, savvy supporters. I owe you one. The head’s much clearer on the other side of nowhere.
If you’ve been hanging out in this dusty, forgotten blog wondering where the heck the music is and why you ever signed up, I beg suggest you come on over to where the party really is. That current guest list can vouch; there is no cover, no I.D. required, no bouncer, open 24/7 and the D.J. takes requests. I’m always around and the mushrooms have been traded in for the occasional and quite sensible G&T.
I sincerely hope to see you soon, but in the meantime, I have only the most genuine thanks for your steady and solid support.
This is The Wrought Writer announcing last call.