My dearest Facebook friends:
Things could get sketchy postingwise for a few days (or months). After a delightful Thanksgiving with my beloved family (we had turkey!) I’m flying off to Haiti to, I hope, finish a novel.
I’m going to a small island called Ill a Vache; to a place where wifi, as well as indoor plumbing, is nonexistent. I’m praying for a few bars from the stars to grace my phone, but everyone I ask, is vague about cell phone reception; my expectations are not high.
Using an outhouse once again in my waning years, I expect, will be a charming, nostalgic piece that might also help prop up The Muse, who’s found slumped over napping less infrequently, it seems, as we wane along.
Could writer’s block be softened by a dose of Myrolax, a banana, and a short walk to the john? We shall see.