I’m sitting here, wet and chilly, after hitting balls in the rain to prepare to play golf in the morning with my dad and his pals, a terrifying prospect because the last time I played, I did so horribly I made all kinds of assurances and promises that I would be a better partner this time, and I haven’t played a single day this summer. 

Shite.

The ball striking was good, but I’m rather distracted, because I’m finally making strides with the book. The Big Blow Up of 2014  worked - I think - and I’ve revised the 36 chapters I had already written, adding 7 in the process. I’m over 85K now, and the end isn’t in sight, but there might be a glimmer of hope ahead. So.

And yes, I'm wildly distracted by the events in Ferguson, and Israel, and the tragic death of Robin Williams and the continuing ebook fight, and watching the fascinating and sometimes irresponsible phenomenon called social activism, where the mob winds people up and sets them loose, stumbling forth in outrage and vitriol and misinformation. I'm trying not to let it tear me too far from my own work, but it is hard to ignore. 

In much better news, my Dad turns 80 Saturday. We will be feting him in various ways, and I’ll be happily tied up with family business this weekend. So it’s back to work Monday and by damn, there will be a draft by next Friday. There. I said it. So it will happen, right?

Who made the pear sorbet from this month's newsletter? How was it?