But inside my gut, I'm on my way already. I'm strolling down the Royal Mile thankful to no longer be an insider. I'm sitting in the Pleasance Courtyard sipping on a beer, musing. I'm declining flyers and discussing nothings. I'm avoiding battered sausages and Scotch food metaphors (which crop up in criticism with alarming regularity). I'm exhausting myself. I'm fizzing.
The reason for this post is to get that familiar apology out of the way. The one that haunts the blogosphere at irregular intervals: I have been remiss at posting. I'm sorry. It's not you, it's me. Work's been tougher recently. I've been busy. I've been lazy. I've been watching too much television - good television (Freefall; The Street; um, Friends), but too much nonetheless. I hope you can forgive.
I promise that change is coming. I have big plans for the next month. The blog will be updated on a regular basis. There will be reviews for Culture Wars, blogs for The Stage, thoughts that occur in the middle of a rainy night, reported conversations and, perhaps, even the odd something that makes sense. I'm also intending to police criticism at this year's festival and, to that end, I'll be shaming the worst of the critical outpouring in a (nasty and totally uncalled for) feature entitled, wittily (!), 'What gives you the write?' or, more simply, 'Oh, Shut the Fuck Up'.
Happy August. Bring on the binge.
0 comments:
Post a Comment