Let's get completely self-referential here for a sec. Over at ConversationalReading, Scott Esposito (who is currently in the lead in the competition for most creative respelling of my last name) links to your humble servant's blog, including the following awfully sweet statement:
I find it amazing that a guy capable of writing this on his blog didn't get better publicity in the States.Or, as I like to rephrase it:
If a writer chops down a tree in a forest to make paper for his novel and nobody hears about it, does that novel still exist?Which, if one transposes oneself, purely theoretically of course, in the mindset of such an author:
If his novel might just as well not exist, isn't the writer better off to chop down a second tree and make sure to stand in its path when it falls?To which this writer says:
Or at least let it squash his writing hand.Such gloomy thoughts, my friends! And it's only Saturday!
If I ever meet Scott, he'll get a big hug, one-armed or not.