Happy Birthday to a Splintered Heart

Probably thought I’d be taking the weekend off, didn’t you? Funny thing about being a full-time writer is, even if you’re not being paid or working to a deadline, you’re still always working. It takes money to take time off, and if you haven’t got the one, you probably haven’t got the other.

Now, today’s message is a simple one for an old brother in arms, Mr. Richard Burley, who was born today in 1970. He claims it was snowing on the day of his birth, but really, how does a guy know that sort of thing for sure? Only a mother would remember something like that, and even then, not very accurately. A cold, blustery day is likely to become a beautiful, sun-filled afternoon idyll or a raging snow storm, simply because of the life your mother has lived with you.

“I always knew you’d turn out to be no good, from the day you were born. The streets were covered in snow and ice and we almost drove into a ditch getting to the hospital. So go ahead and join your bisexual progressive funk band, you rotten little freak!”

Or, you know, words to that effect.

So, Richard, here we are, both trying to get our lives back in gear after years of wallowing in our failures. To be fair to you, I didn’t have as much trouble with cheating partners and mental instability, but I think we both understand how it is to watch your life’s work disappear from your life like it was never yours to begin with.

So, what plans do you have next, Rich? The Distance finished playing that run of your musical,The Bridge, for you. Are you going to write them something new to play, or is it time to call it a day and let them get back to their separate lives again? Are you ever going to finish that new Sci-Fi novel, whatever you called it? Did you settle on a title, at least?

Well, I wish you luck with it, buddy. I know you can use it. Let me know if you need an impartial set of eyes to give it the once over.

And Happy Birthday.

Eddie.

2 Responses to “Happy Birthday to a Splintered Heart

  • I’ve always rather liked Richard. I’m no fan of genre fiction or musicals, and I doubt he even remembers who I am, but he was friendly and polite whenever we did run into one another, and I was sad to hear about the incident with David Mender or whatever his name was. Do pass on my kind regards.

Don't be shy. Tell me what you really think, now.

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