I’m scheduled for Romancing the Blog next Tuesday and I have no idea what to post. Normally by this time I’d have too many to choose from because I tend to stockpile ideas but what with the way the last month or so has gone. No such luck. So I’m sitting here this afternoon staring at the computer, out the window, bloghopping and still coming up dry.
It’s actually more a matter of too many ideas, none of which truly appeal to me at the moment. I mean how many times can one comment on the latest controversy of the moment? For that matter, what is the latest and will it even be the latest by next Tuesday?
I thought about going really broad, like say the meaning of life, but frankly, I’m just not in the mood to share my tightly horded kernels of wisdom on that one. Hehehe. So, I suppose I could narrow it down a little and stick to just the meaning of romance but that again has been done to death. Or has it?
I was thinking about this one the other day in the middle of reading a book. It wasn’t so much a matter of enjoying or not enjoying the story as it was wondering what in the world had happened to the romance in it. And this was a mass market paperback labeled romance of all things.
Taps fingers on desk in irritation. There should surely be a post buried in that one somewhere, don’t you think? The problem is that, honest to God, we really have discussed this one so many times that I’m not sure I can bring myself to talk about it again even though it practically slapped me upside the head and screamed here I am.
I shall have to think about it some more. Gack.