February 10, 2001

Writer's block. I've got it. Fortunately, I've got strips posted for the next 22 days, and scripts written for a week past that. No, the problem right now is that I can't think of anything to put in the open letter. Why not? Why this creative dearth? I mean, I send email all day long, and wax pretty creative in there sometimes. I ought to be able to toss something up here every couple of days with no trouble at all.

I guess the problem is that I feel the entry should be relevant, and I have no clue what's going on around me. I've been so busy between work at Novell, work on this strip, and time with my 25% larger family ("New and improved, with wholesome bleach and baby-vomit scents!") that the creative engine is starting to sputter.

The good news is that some of you folks have been emailing me and feeding nice starchy, fattening content to my grossly overweight ego. It's a pretty satisfied psychological metaphor, sitting here on its cheeto-stained couch behind a stack of video game controllers and TV/VCR combination remote controls.

At least one of you is frowning right now saying "Hey! that sounds like what Howard wrote in his response to my email message praising him and his funny strip!"

It's true. I re-use my best stuff whenever I can. What can I say? I'm living up to my title... "Schlock Mercenary."

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