The 100th post calls for a celebration...exploiting me. 13 years ago I wrote this short story about a baby bird who thought he couldn't fly. Truthfully, I don't know what I was thinking. Happy 100th post on this website.
It's a new thing. Not Netflix and Chill. This is YouTube and Caffeinate. And this is my 99th Dalmatian puppy.
I like to keep my life separated from my life on social media. Even here. I mean, I talk about some stuff but you don't know details like how much sugar I put in my coffee each day. But there are people who share more than enough of their private lives to other people.
The little cactus is adorable. I wonder what kind of sequels he likes? It's exciting to read sequels. I once read four Warrior Cats books in one afternoon...
No one likes to reveal the nitty-gritty details. Or the reality. But I think people are interested. When you hear writers talking about what it's like to be them, I think you might hear a lot of "procrastination", "writer's block", "inspired out of nowhere", "coffee", and "sleep deprivation". But they're not revealing EVERYTHING.
FOXWOOD FOREST 