To paraphrase Engineer Scott from the fourth (and my personal favourite) Star Trek film:
Admiral … there be words here!
Now, I’m not any kind of admiral (can’t swim for starters, and I couldn’t tie a clove hitch to save my soul), nor am I one of those anonymous, red-uniformed expendables that fades to black in most every Star Trek storyline (not now, anyway; I’ve finally moved on to a speaking part).
Uttering words, making noise, banging my own drum (slowly). It’s a big step for a veritable hermit … but here I is! … dehermitizing, at least in the virtual universe of the Internet. I may encounter other sentient life here, eventually, if anyone chances to beam onto my friendly outpost for a how-do-you-do (and hopefully, a follow-me too). If I do, I suspect they won’t be any scarier than my own alien self, or my shadow … which can be pretty damned freaky betimes!
I’ve written a novel, Second Breath, not science fiction as the theme of this post might suggest, but a trek is involved (more on that later). I took a hell of a long time doing it. I’ll put a charitable spin on it and say, life got in the way of good intentions. Yup, that’s it. Whatever the case, I’ve finally rubbed the rust out of my psyche and am ready to rumble.
Beam me up Scottie.