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Here goes another attempt at a blog. I enjoy writing. Why do I so rarely make the time for it? Why does carving out an hour or two a day fill me with guilt? Lately I have shifted my career focus to concentrate specifically on publishing a children’s picture book based on any number of manuscripts I’ve semi-completed over the years.

As it happens, you can’t approach publishers with half-finished manuscripts or “great ideas.” I mean, if you’re a celebrity you can probably do this, or if you’ve got connections in the publishing world you might be able to finagle a book deal based on charm and a killer elevator pitch.

Alas, I am a regular person with no friends, so I have no other option than to buckle down and make things happen. As my husband once remarked, these books aren’t going to write themselves.