Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t going to be great news?

You knew it couldn’t last, right?

You didn’t?

Oh, Shizzle. I’m sorry.

Alright already! Spit it out, Woman. I haven’t got all day. I’m in no mood for being teased more than I’ve been teased already.

Maybe I should explain what I’m talking about. I’ve found that informing the reader is always a good technique to prevent them from trash-talking about you…keep them coming back for more.

I’m not talking about TomKat’s Made-For-Tabloids Marriage.

I’m talking about my triumphant and hyperactive return to the blog-o-sphere. Since I returned, I haven’t even looked at my mirror…memoir. I’ve been busy (and by “busy” I mean spending 8 hours a day catching up on your blogs, commenting, and posting a few things of my own.) Unless the UPS guy comes to the door to deliver an array of back support paraphernalia I’ve ordered so I can pry myself off my chair without too much pain before hobbling to the bathroom to avoid peeing my pants because I’ve ignored my bladder, I haven’t left my computer.

No one wants it to come to this, right? Right?

I take full responsibility for my relapse into Blogmania. I missed you and I have very little impulse control until I feel my bladder control giving way.

Taking a brief break from my book before I edit it was my plan. Just like a mother who gives birth after an extremely long labor, she needs time away from her infant to recuperate before she can think about hiring a nanny. Well, I’m talking about mothers like me.

Oh Dear. Whatever shall I do with this fragile creation now that it is here? I think it best that I worry a while longer. Perhaps it will take care of itself if I just stare at it long and hard enough. I’m very good at that, you know.

I’m ready to return to my memoir as a reader, not a writer. This will take my full attention because I’ve never read anything that I’ve written (maybe you can tell?).

So I’ll be disappearing for a while again. When I return, I’ll be ready to make important decisions about what happens to the book to get it out to the public. Then all (and by “all” I mean “most”) of my secrets will be out. I will probably have to go into the Federal Witness Protection Program (if they still have it) because one of these things will happen:

  1. Certain people will hire a hit on me because they didn’t like how I felt about them and I had the audacity to say so. Out loud. In print.
  2. I will become so wildly popular that the Paparazzi won’t leave me alone–and I need my alone time for my mental and physical health. Scrappy does, too.

I suppose that didn’t require a list, but lists are dramatic and break up the text.

Yes, we can protect you, but you have to follow our rules. #1: no blogging. Remember, this is how you got into this mess in the first place.

Blog on, people! You’ve proven you can live without me (lots of people can, actually). You can do it again.

You know I’ll return–I promised I would the last time and I did. I’m nothing if I’m not a woman of my word. And now it’s time to read the ones I wrote and, hopefully, make them better.

I think it’s a good time for my Writer’s version of the Serenity Prayer:

Brain grant me the smarts
to leave on the page the words I should not change;
the courage to change or delete the words I never should have written;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Emma Jean: The Patron Saint of Little Girls Who Always Knew They Had A Book In Them And Wanted To Wear Glasses To Make Them Look Smarter

I’ll be spending the better part of July reading a book I wrote. What will you be doing?

Well, a gal’s gotta have some diversions. All that reading is hard on the eyes, you know.