Sunday, March 1, 2009
I met up with a friend the other night for a drink.
This friend--let's call her N.--has been through the wringer lately.
Crap at work, crap in her relationship, just a general and unremitting crap-fest.
So we met up at a neighborhood joint for drinks, conversation, and some laughs.
Afterwards, I walked home. N. headed for her car and found her front window smashed, and her laptop gone.
Insurance will replace the window glass, and the computer. But her files are gone. As is the content for her business's new web site. Family photos. Letters. The general filing cabinet crap we all store on our computers and never look at but know is still there, somewhere, if we need it.
I walked by the neighborhood joint's parking lot yesterday. They hadn't even bothered to sweep up the shattered glass.
There's a shadow constantly hovering at my shoulder. For all my gallivanting into the social whirl, nevermind the positive social media...
Ever wondered what it takes to get a piece of fiction published? I'm not talking New Yorker type of prose. That's a rarefied world ...
Check out my new video, a brief reading from a story published this past spring in Opossum.
Welp, after a half-year experiment in social media, BSP has returned to its blogger roots. I hated Faceborkland, tbh. Sure, it was easier t...