Tap, tap, tap, tap...

I'm sitting here picking at the keyboard, very much resembling one of my chickens after I've thrown a scattering of rice down in the grass for them. Duck, sight, weave, bob, PECK! Begin again. Why am I typing like this? Because my right wrist is currently wrapped in a rigid brace that I've been promised will abate the nerve twanging pain that keeps shooting through my thumb and first two fingers. I have my doubts about this, but I will keep wearing the brace. And in the meantime, I will doggedly continue to peck out words like a drunk chicken looking for white rice in a snow storm because, well, it's all I can do.

Writing is like that. You do what you can, when you can. And no matter how long it takes you, or how frustratingly difficult it is, you keep doing it because, well, that's what makes you happy.

Hint Fiction, How Cool is This?

So my brother in-law, secret code name Chucky Duck, turned me on to this entire thing known as Hint Fiction. He caught wind of an upcoming contest and anthology of which the winners of said contest will be a part. It's a terribly cool concept, and I'm totally entering myself. I've put a link here, both to spread the word, and because if I do, I can enter a third story! :D Check it out and enjoy! http://www.robertswartwood.com/?page_id=8