Chekhov's Mistress

This Has Nothing to Do With That

by Bud Parr

Once or twice a week I ask myself “why am I writing these silly little essays?” I’m much too old to spend my time “blogging” and I should probably roller-skate if I want to act young. But, every time I decide to quit, I end up sitting down to write yet another entry. So if I needed a reason, at least for all those people that ask me why, then I could point to this article at the New Yorker that says that literary agents are out there surfing blogs for the next big thing and some of the people in this blog community are publishing books. Well, this is not why I’m compelled to pour my soul onto the net and I don’t really know, other than I like the way the keyboard sounds on my sleek PowerBook G4, but if I were going to have a solid reason, then this article would be it.



I saw the NYer article referenced at Zulkey.com

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