by John Ostrander
Writing can be fun. Most of the time. Even writing for profit. Or writing for fun like I do here.
And some days, it’s not. You sit down with the best intentions and nothing happens or nothing good. Like this time. I’m in a bad mood, my cats are nagging me, I feel tired and everything I write seems like crap and probably is. However, the column is due and I’d better not go back to Casablancaagain. I told Mike I wouldn’t.
So I’m doing what I usually do. Sit down and type stuff and see if there’s anything useful in it.
