Hm. I know why I removed the posts from here. I know why, okay?
The memoir is being looked at by a publisher, next week. If he buys it, it will become a book. Great and not.
The memoir is subtitled: post-traumatic stress disorder, science fiction, & love. Certainly a summation of my life in eight words.
My plan is to after the manuscript gets delivered to work on the house cleaning plan. I have a blog site all set up and functioning for that already.
But . . . .
I feel like I’ve lost my home. Silly, ‘huh? I’m semi-anonymous here. If people know me IRL, they know my real name. It’s not hidden all that well. But I was comfortable behind the smoke screen.
The memoir is going to remove that. Further taking the cleaning/dehoarding posts from here and moving them (or not) to the other blog will do that too. I plan to publish the cleaning plan as well, if I ever manage to actually get it to work.
Feeling a bit naked here — there’s a breeze, right? Someone got a door open? Or, maybe it’s just a hole in my armor.
Probably that. And it’s permanent. I guess I’d better get used to it, ‘eh?