Worked on that G.K. Chesterton essay, only to switch it to a back-burner.   But his observations remain jaw-droppingly prescient and very worth your while.  We’ll return someday, hopefully.

Meanwhile I am hoping…praying…to resume writing, and more seriously than ever before.   There are three big projects in mind.  In reverse order of (current) importance:

#3:  An e-book.  Title?

RADIOACTIVE BABOON ON CRACK:

ATOMIC ANECDOTES OF A NUCLEAR NOMAD.

Long-suffering visitors will remember “atomic anecdotes” from the Fukushima days.  Possibly even the legendary-but-true R.B.o.C. himself.

There are many more such tidbits from my run-down but quite roomy memory palace.  “Anecdotes” could be a fun and sometimes hilarious work.  But to be truly memorable it needs numerous light-hearted illustrations.  Like a heavily-sedated, highly radioactive baboon.  In a diaper.

Obviously such images are crystal-clear in the mind’s eye; the trick is transmitting them down the nervous system, out of the hand, and onto the page.  IE, I’m a terrible artist.

(I did mention “heavily-sedated”, right?  Because when that job was assigned my thought wasn’t “Oh no!  Radioactive baboon!”  It was, “Baboon on crack?!”)

Next!  Project #2:  full-length movie script.  Title?

 The Mark of Cain.

Can’t share the story twist here, as it’s easily filchable.  Stolenable?  Confiscationish!

Anyway, not only is it a grade-A “high-concept”, it’s perfect to torture the protagonist, a Christian (or is he?) attorney.  Which makes this an attempt to merge a C.S. Lewis classic with a big-budget Hollywood thriller.

I believe the word for that is “ambitious”?  (Not a term ever applied to me before.)  Thus the creative muscles need lots of work prior to tackling this.

And so, #1.  It is…believe it or not…a stand-up comedy routine.  I’ve not done stand-up for 16 or 17 years, so much more than writing discipline must be regained.  Health, appearance, voice, timing, presence, etc. etc.   Ugh.  Stand-up is probably the most difficult Performance Art of all.

(And it’s certainly the scariest.)

But that’s where I am.  Until yesterday I’d forgotten how important it was to me, 18 years ago, to discover if God has a sense of humor.   (SPOILER ALERT: He does.)

So that’s it.  I’ll go ahead and assume your forgiveness for not providing the usual pedantic, high-falutin’ essay.  On, literally, What’s Wrong With the World.

Oh wait!  I didn’t share Project #1’s title.  Let’s just drop a hint and let you guess.  And since the hint is one of the two sexiest songs ever recorded…you’re welcome.

All the best guys!