So a reader of this blog just pointed out to me that I have been a bad caretaker of this particular corner of the interweb.
And she was right (I will be thanking her further down the page) which means I've been pricked into immediate action.
Of course there are reasons for my absence.
I blame - just like I always do - the sheer weight of work on my desk, the sheer number of ideas whizzing around in what I pass off as my mind, and the multifarious strands that intertwine on the frantic loom of my life . . . but I'm fooling no one.
I think my problem lies in a simple fact: that I'm incredibly comfortable rattling out tales of far-flung futures, or contemporary alien invasions, of cybernetic cats and monsters and the catastrophic collapse of society due to mutogenic plagues, but awfully poor at non-fiction; at talking about the real world, my place in it, and my reactions to it.
I fear, I guess, that no one actually gives a fig what I think.
But the purpose of this blog was always to force me to learn to talk about myself a bit. The idea was that there really is no point in a comfort zone if you're not prepared to step out of it every now and then.
To be honest I'd forgotten that.
So thank you, Franky, for reminding me that it's actually pretty good to blog. To ramble on without having to check that I'm not losing my narrative focus or are in danger of sinking into melodrama.
Normal service has been resumed.
Which doesn't mean I'm going to be doing this every day or anything.
But when I think of something to say, I'll see you here.