Archive for Introduction

As It Happens

Thanks to this blurb from, I am throwing As It Happens onto the blog barbie:

“Someday I think there will be a realization that the real story is more exciting than the cookie-cutter founder myth the media tries frame everything in. It’s not just one or two guys hacking on something alone, it’s dozens of people from across the world coming together because of a shared passion. It’s not about selling out to a single company, it’s dozens of companies independently adopting and backing an open source platform for no reason other than its quality. I’m not a millionaire, and may never be, but there are now hundreds of people making their living using WordPress, and I expect that number to grow to tens of thousands. That’s what gets me out of bed in the morning, not the prospect of becoming a feature on an Internet behemoth’s checklist.” — Matt Mullenweg, founder, WordPress

It’s ironic, actually, that an homage to collaboration would stir an inveterate individualist to start a blog. I think I am finally tossing out my belief that all good work comes from sitting alone in a room and thinking your own thoughts. And I should have known better. I couldn’t have written Summer Long-a-coming without the editorial eye of a woman named Carole Malkin, or without dozens of conversations about writing and literature with an old friend named Peter Wortsman. In fact, I attribute my long writing hiatus to having “over-privatized” my mind. It’s not as if I consciously set out to isolate myself from other writers. It just happened.

Maybe it had to. Most of my writing these days is for a very big IT company that underwrites my daily survival. Thanks to the paycheck I get every two weeks, I do not wake up in the middle of the night worrying about how to pay for the roof over my head. I don’t worry that I can’t afford the various generations of game platforms that my kid is addicted to.

But there’s a price to pay for working eight or nine hours a day and shoehorning your writing ambitions into the wee hours of the night or morning. You wake up one day and you’re talking to people about your commercial work, not about the novels, essays and plays that once dominated your thoughts. You have become one more person who had to “grow up.” Sometimes you don’t recognize yourself. I want to recognize myself again. So, I hereby announce my return to the playground.

In As It Happens, I am going to comment as I see fit on my life as a writer of novels, essays and plays, a corporate communications flack, a podcaster and book club leader. I don’t intend to worry about being a fool or a greybeard.


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