To all of my delightful readers, I send my sincere apologies, yet again. (Sadly, I have the feeling that it may very well get only worse, as time flies faster than SSTs. But looking on the brighter side, I will try to be more careful.
In case you haven’t noticed; Sunday, I sent the same edition I had sent a week before; but not without almost going berserk worry with this ancient piece of junk I have to work with. It refuses to print what I write AS I write it, but persists in using its own lack of taste to set up new margins for me; Use ANYTHING Different, and it goes on Strike!
And then we have my brain, which is surely going downhill all too fast. My writing is sometimes good and often terrible, yet I struggle on because I love doing it the best I can.
In articles like Draft Dodgers, I write down memories as they occurred, and often realize that I have a chronological and logical error, and try to remedy the damage to the story. So, last week, after having Lynwood with me for the Swiss bit. I went back and changed the order of things. I tried to call up FF 3 and 4 and was convinced that the numbering was off. (It was just like Russian Roulette!)
So, here’s what I plan to do. I now have the next part of Draft Dodgers almost finished, so I will send that, a new movie quiz and Kitty Litter, or whatever by Friday. Then next Sunday, I dare to hope everything will go more smoothly.
Whew! That sounds complex! Goodbye and I love you all—That’s something I could never say on FACE BOOK!|
Your friend, and mine, Francis Michael Imbragulio (frustrated writer)