In excuse for my failure to post for these many months

I told my sister that I was pregnant, and she said “oh, you’ll have so many creative pregnancy hormones!”

They say that only old men and pregnant women can raise parsley, that it takes the patience that only these demographics have.  Similarly, I’ve been waiting and waiting for the creative hormones to strike me, and then I was reminded that good writing isn’t produced just by whimsy and inspiration. Sometimes it requires torture, furrowed brows, and discipline.

So anyway, all these months, all these pregnancy hormones… and all I got was acne.