Dusting off the Cobwebs

Excuse me while I blow the dust off my blog here . . . I have not blogged much lately.  That is mostly because I am on the brink of releasing my next book:  The Ballad of the Shirley T and Other Stories.  It is a book of six short stories, mostly Southern, and several with distinct Lowcountry flavor.  Paperback will be $.8.95 and e-book less than that (yet to be determined).  Check perrincothranconrad.com or http://www.iuniverse.com/ in the next few weeks!

Getting a book out is hard work and leaves little time for . . . well, writing.  There are proofs and polishing, followed by proofs and more proofs.  And with every round, you never trust yourself completely, so you wait around while someone else's eyes scan and tell you that you forgot to dot an i . . . or that your cover needs an overhaul.

The second reason that I have not blogged much lately is that I have a 3 year old son at home.  Sure, he goes to preschool 3 mornings per week, but when he's home, he requires lots of attention.  If I am not actively engaged with him, I must watch him like a hawk.  Anyone who has ever had a 3 year old boy will understand this.  Just try to go to the bathroom, take a shower, run the vacuum in the next room.  Go ahead.  And when you come back, you will find your son on top of the refrigerator.  Or perhaps he is very proud of himself for having outsmarted the childproof drawer latches and wants to show you the cool icepick he found.

Constant heartattacks.  That's motherhood.  Oh, and the 3 year old tantrums . . . they will leave you questioning everything you ever knew to be true in life and thinking you have gone terribly wrong as a mother.  If you stay at home, you will become convinced that you have ruined him with your bad mothering skills and he would have been better off in daycare.  If you work outside the home, you will wail and beat your chest, thinking your work schedule has caused him emotional problems, and if only you had stayed home . . . but none of these things are true.  All of it is a phase.  Or so I am told.  "The good news is that they all turn four!"  That's what I keep hearing.  Of course, my son is wonderful . . . and so much fun.  But every day is an adventure.  Forget Halloween.  NOTHING scares ME anymore.

So, just try having a 3 year old boy at home with you and trying to get your latest book out at the same time . . . you, too, will be wearing your spouse's sweats because you haven't done your own laundry in so long.  You, too, will be coughing from the dust on your nightstand.

But I wouldn't trade my life for the world.