Late bloomers

I would like to be writing new things, about the one-eyed puppy we picked up, about monster-making, about a resurgence in Unda Water, about lessons learned in the world of advertising, about further half-formed theology, about the children I pass driving to work, waiting for the bus, pulling on the air, a mimed plea for passing cars to honk.

But writing well takes time, and if I'm going to write, I at least want to try to write well. And of course, it's not that I don't have time, it's just that I don't want to spend it on blog writing these days.

Instead, I'll post again by pointing you to an article by the always-pleasing Malcolm Gladwell on Late Bloomers, comforting reading for a mid/late-30s still-wannabe.