This is the blog of a struggling writer, not a well established, previously published, my book tour is so hectic blog.  Rather, it's a place for me (see name above) to write about my process of being a struggling writer in all its glory, gory details.  The plethora of MFA programs has made my position less than unique, my voice perhaps the sound of a drone that says "I really want to be a writer, but it doesn't pay the bills."  I embrace this fact, with disgust, of course, but  none-the-less I embrace it (did I say with disgust?). 

Grad school was a waste of time.  If I had to do it all over again, well, you'll just have to wait and read my second blog entry to find out about that choice.  I can't take myself too seriously, you see, because as Michael Chabon so aptly pointed out in an interview, most books written will never be read.  It begs the question: why do we do this?  Why do we spend our time doing something that will really only reach a few people in the grand scheme of things?  I think the answer is that if you've ever heard someone tell a story very poorly, you know why some of us do it.  I'm sure there are people on the Red Room website that tell stories poorly.  I may very well be one of them...and yet, you, silly reader, are still reading...you haven't turned away, even though I addressed you as silly just then. 

If you've ever heard a person tell a story very eloquently, been so entranced in the plot of the thing and left the room thinking the person who recounted that tale was brilliant and full of unparalled life experience then you, blog reader, have the answer as to why we write.  For some reason, you find yourself on this site.  Either you know me (hello, how have you been?), you've heard of me (can  you tell me where?), or you've simply stumbled upon me.  In any case, I extend my thanks to you for reading my first ever blog entry and hope that whatever you are reading is good.  Life is too short to read bad books.