I’m getting restless. Got a Frank brewing in my brain. Something spooky…I want to be a writer for a while, not just a self-promoter.   Feels like there’s not enough time to do both. And work fulltime. And have a homelife. And a home. And social life. And community obligations. Not to mention reading, playing with the dogs, exercising, cooking…

No wonder I want to write. When I’m in a story all that other stuff melts away. Bye-bye. “Member the old Calgon commercials? Taht’s what I want. “Frank, take me away!”

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