Quite a few Holidailies folks have been introducing themselves as a courtesy to any new readers who might show up on their cyber doorstep. Unfortunately, it's hard to figure out what I could say about my life that wouldn't cause most readers to resolve never again to visit such a terminally boring person, once they had woke up.

Sometimes I wonder what I've spent the past half century or so doing. School, job, marriage...it practically puts me to sleep thinking about it. When I go to bed I don't have to count sheep, I just start drafting my autobiography.

What I've read and written over the years has been a lot more interesting than my life. The Lord of the Rings sure beat whatever went on in seventh grade. I recall drawing King Cotton Comics in the fifth grade much better than I remember long division. (Is there a connection?)

The world out there has been a bit of an annoyance actually. While I was involved in writing and drawing for sf fanzines I had go to enough classes to get an English Lit degree. Later, while I was trying to publish my own fanzine I was repeatedly forced away from my typewriter and ditto machine to study law books. Then, just when I was really getting into mini-comics there was some unplesantness about a marriage. That really dried up my felt tips. Stopped me from ever putting out the third issue of The Remarkable Rutabaga.

I do enjoy writing about my past, because my past self seems like someone else, a fictional character maybe. I have a terrible memory. Since I can only remember bits and pieces and have to fill in the blanks (i.e. every detail) the me I write about probably is fictitious.

Right now, the Byzantine mystery books my wife and I co-write are a lot more compelling than my life. About the only excitement that I get is when I'm roaming around the streets of sixth century Constantinople in my imagination.

I guess living in your head isn't the ideal situation, but then again, it's always there and you don't need to buy a ticket. Well, enough of that. I've got to go and dicker over a centaur skeleton.