Can't sleep. Got to write. Story of my life.

We live in an age when a man is still executed by something as simple as a rope, and recorded by something as high tech as a digital camcorder. Your best friend lives in the same building but will not visit. Will not call. But will send a text message. I am writing a novel that I love, truly enjoy creating, but feel haunted by determining its place in the market.

I am the proud (once tortured) owner of a dog named Jawws who spends much of his day gazing out of my second story window that overlooks the entrance to the building. Most of my neighbors know Jawws. Often I'll be on the couch writing, while he is monitoring the street, and hear him being greeted as if he was the mayor. Tonight I headed out with Jawws for his evening walk. A couple was coming home at the same time. They said hello to both of us, but only knew Jawws's name.

I guess there is still hope for this age.