It's not that I've stopped writing. It's that I've apparently stopped writing a blog.
So here's what's happened: A few months ago, they started syndicating our radio show. And that's neat. But it's confronted me with something I didn't think about: Emails. Bushels of 'em.
So I'm spending almost no time on this blog, and that bugs me. I love it too much -- or, I should say, I love throwing around ideas and laughing with commenters here too much -- to abandon it. It's just all the emails.
Emails. To: Brant. From: Every Person Alive. RE: Every Conceivable Thing, Mostly Tragic Stuff
I wrote awhile back that C.S. Lewis took the time to write to each correspondent. It doesn't quite suffice to say, as I did, that "I'm no C.S. Lewis." Let's just say that if Clive is an F-16, Brant is a paper airplane, badly-folded.
So I'm writing a lot...just not on my blog. I'm answering listener emails. I'm not sure what to do about this. My job is odd: I talk to a lot of people, but don't make big celebrity money, and can't, therefore, employ a personal secretary, and even if I could, I'd feel odd about farming out people's concerns. The whole thing is weird.
Anyhow, I'm going to try harder, onaccounta I miss being able to do this.