Why do I want a blog? I'm asking myself that question. I don't really know the answer. Perhaps it's out of some narcissistic desire to see my thoughts in print. I hope not, but that may be the case. I had another blog for over a year that I called An Ill Wind. For a time I posted daily or even two or three times a day, but gradually my interest waned. The same thing may happen here, or possibly I will be able to sustain my interest this time. We must face the fact that most blogs aren't updated very frequently and that most don't enjoy a great deal of longevity.

I used to think of myself as a writer. I wrote a number of short stories, won a few awards in college, and published a single short story in a long forgotten anthology. I began a novel which quickly became too weird for me. It seemed to take on a mind of its own. I abandoned the project when it became simply too creepy. My second attempt at novel writing fared not much better. I began what I still think could be a viable novel some years ago, wrote about 100 pages, rewrote those same 100 pages a dozen times, and sort of lost interest. Perhaps one day I will finish it, but probably not.

Probably very few people will read this blog other than friends and family. I am not a celebrity by any stretch of the imagination. My thoughts will never change the world, and maybe that's the beauty of blogging. It allows us the opportunity to perform self psychoanalysis. It's certainly less expensive than a shrink.