Well, two years since I last updated you all, and some were beginning to worry I might have died.
Well, I am 60 years old and have bad heart, but I am still walking and talking. Sadly, what I'm not doing is writing. I can officially say that anyone still waiting for The Winter King should give up the ghost. It is dead, dead, dead.
I still try to write, and am having some success getting back to my roots in poetry, but the stories just won't flow. I still stare at the blank white expanse of my open word processor and damn my silent muse on an almost daily basis, so there is some hope.
Who knows, one of these days, my fingers will come to rest on the keyboard, and my silent muse will stroke the back of my hands and whisper in my ear.