Yesterday morning my friend Dan sent me this message, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 6:15am, his time:
Good morning! What are you working on this week? Any new blog posts coming?
(That’s Dan speak for, it’s time for another effing blog post, Jenny.)
Dan is one of my very best writing compadres. Along with being a writer who produces entertaining prose faster than Agatha Christie on speed, he’s a critique partner that gives me grief whenever I take too long to email an edited chapter. He’s always sure to tell me what works, and what needs work. He encourages me to step out of my comfort zone. He’s a republican that calls me a commie. And, to be honest, being called a commie by Dan makes me laugh out loud, Every. Single. Time.
I responded to his message with a pretty standard J. A. Allen reply:
I don’t have time.
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