Okay, the pig is on a serious diet, my pockets are empty and it’s getting harder and harder to imagine I’m going to make it to publication. Everyday you hear about another newspaper going under in the US and here in Canada it’s not much better. Publishing and the way in which we communicate our ideas is undergoing some serious and painful change. If this is a sort of artistic renaissance by way of economic collapse, then it had better be an amazing period of enlightenment for this writer. Even when the economy is fat and happy, competition for spots in literary magazines is damn stiff. I’ve decided to ride it out by blogging, submitting for clips not cash and pray the day job feeds and shelters us for another year. If the poverty becomes deep and ugly it will be sort of like writing in the sand: Meaningless and washed away by the wave of need. Either way, I’ll keep writing because it’s what I was born to do, paid or not.