by Rob Gregory Browne
As you read this, I’m headed up the coast toward San Francisco, where I’ll be attending Bouchercon along with several other Murderati authors.
I knew I had to write a post today. Then, of course, I started washing clothes, packing and trying to figure out what I needed to take and what could stay home, and about three minutes ago it suddenly hit me.
I had forgotten completely about the post.
I find the older I get, the harder it is to remember stuff. Nowadays, I get up from my desk and go into the kitchen for a cup of coffee and get in there and forget what I went there for. So I go back to my desk, sit down, then suddenly remember, oh, yeah, coffee.
So I get up again, go to the kitchen and by the time I get there, I’ve forgotten all about the coffee again.
Kinda scary, when you think about it, but I think I can chalk it up to the simple fact that I’m always preoccupied. Not just a hazard of the profession, but a hazard of being me.
I have a report card from when I was a kid with a note that says, “Robby is a good student, but spends too much time daydreaming.”
I don’t know about you, but I think that teacher was kind of an idiot. What’s wrong with daydreaming? Lord knows she wasn’t holding my interest.
Anyway, the bottom line here is that I forgot about this post and since I’m getting up at five a.m. to head out to Bouchercon, I’m going to completely flake out on the Murderati crowd today and go to bed.
Yeah, yeah, I know. Good thing I’m not getting paid for this gig, eh?
But before I go, let me throw out a random question:
If you could be a character in any novel you’ve ever read, who would you be and why?