Mar 032008
 

I’d planned to finish up the script for the second issue of Blood Bowl: Killer Contract this weekend, but I had to deal with something else instead. I coach indoor soccer at the local Y for my three youngest sons: Pat, Nick, and Ken. Normally, the worst trauma of the day involves kids whining about where I ask them to play. This Saturday, though, was far worse

(My apologies for writing about this here, but I need to get it down and out of my own head somehow. Skip it if you like. If it must bear upon writing or my career—which is what this site is mostly about—consider it a point about how impossible it is to plan for the way life can screw up your best-laid plans.)

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