I do. I spill things on my shirts all the time. If there’s one thing you should know about me, this is it. I’m a terrible klutz. I feel like I ought to have an entourage of people with bibs, hankies, wet wipes, empty notebooks, and cell phones with a dry cleaner permanently set to speed dial following me around.

I write essays in my head when I am driving. Or taking the elevator. Or walking. I’ve even written a poem or two this way, which immediately flies out of my head as soon as it is born, never to be recreated and its loss always to be lamented. Such is the way of the writer. Permanently distracted by the minds eye, moving through the motions on auto-pilot while desperately trying to remember a word that rests precariously on the tip of our tongue.

Some things resonate, and some things don’t. This is also a truth about me and about any writer worth his weight in verbs. Some comics, some essays, some short stories are likable and universal and some things are a little too out there, a little bit not funny enough- and I can’t help that. One obscure essay does not a bad writer make.

I encourage comment and critique, but I prefer the constructive kind and not the “You misplaced a comma” or “I hate the way you use fragments in your essays.” I’m more concerned with content than framework, which is always being updated and fixed as time goes by. I also love to read other people’s work, so please leave a link for me to read your stuff if you like. Particularly comics and essays. I’ll try to leave comments when I can.

And with no further ado, let the blogging begin!