Dear Literators,

I’ve got disagreeable news and wickedawesome news. The wickedawesome first:

Business is picking up. I’m learning more about my craft than ever, and am even drawing up plans for massive collaboration with names bigger than my petty John Handcock. It’s a blast.

Now for the disagreeable news:

I’m running on fumes in my Influence, Catalyst, Kreativity, Erudition, Revelation, Brainwave, Education and Encouragement department—or as I like to call it, Ickerbees (sounds like a gross Lovecraftian/Kingian monster, eh?). I’ve read a paltry half-book a week recently, but have continued to crank out the same dose of content on here, in my private sphere, and in the business-class end of the plane.

In addition, I’ve become something of a stat-monkey, paying more attention to charts than to fostering good conversation and dialog. I’m against elitism in any form, in showing favoritism, and when I find it within myself, I gag. Once upon a time, I knew a man who cared so much about the stats on his blog, he ran his family and friendships into the ground. Started to see that in myself last week, a future addiction to blog-stats, and decided to squash it.

Because I don’t want to skimp in the quality of anything I’m doing (and because I want to keep myself from elitism), I need to dumb down the quantity of posts. For now, I’m cutting down from 4-5 posts a week to 1-2. Everything will defer to The Last of the Tellers since that keeps a consistent readership, but I need to slow down, drill deep and drink deep of what I find down there:

“Writing is magic, as much the water of life as any other creative art. The water is free. So drink. Drink and be filled up.”

– Stephen King

Otherwise, the ulcers generated by my over-analyzing mind will come back.

When the ulcers come back, metamorphosis of the Kafkan-variety happens to my insides. When metamorphosis of the Kafkan-variety happens to my insides, a growth sprouts on my hip. When a growth sprouts on my hip, it grows into a symbiotic creature named Belial from the movie Basket Case. When a symbiotic creature name Belial sprouts on my hip, he eventually pulls free and turns into a doppelgänger named “Anti-Lance” like at the end of the Mortal Combat games or Scott Pilgrim VS The World (comic or movie), and tries to take over the free world.

Don’t let Anti-Lance take over the free world.

Cheer Proto-Lance on as he slows down to read, fills up his Ickerbees quota, and generates dadgumgoodwritin’ for his clients (future and present) as well as for you fine liberators of all things lit. You people rock, so thanks for your continued support.

Hugs, Kisses and Argyle,

Lancelot of the Tribe of Cobblers