Why Nobody Needs Shoes More than the Cobbler's Son

 It has been a long time since I've blogged.

Like almost a year.

My readership, such that it is, doesn't seem to have missed me. It's not like I've been inundated by messages: Where are you? and Why aren't you publishing anymore? and Gee, did you retire after winning that Pulitzer?

As if.

The truth is I am writing. I'm writing a lot, in fact. Like every day.

It's the latest turn in my professional life. I'm now the editor of an online daily e-newspaper. So I'm writing a ton. My publishing schedule is five stories per day, somewhere in the neighborhood of 200 words, six days a week.

That's a lot of words.

I'm heading up a publication called BUCKSCO Today.

When I first came aboard last March, I balked mightily against the all-cap (not a fan, unless it's an acronym. Or a story about someone warning people about a disaster: "THERE'S A TIDAL WAVE COMING!").

But it is our brand standard.

Brandard?

Hmmm.

So I got over my all-cap-a-phobia.

The writing I'm doing is some original work. But the rest of the work involves 'curating' content from other (properly sourced, totally attributed, all-above-board) sources.

I'm therefore something of a re-write artist, boiling down lengthy articles from The New York Times or The Wall Street Journal into bite-sized pieces.

Oh, and there's one more twist.

My "beat" (do journalists still refer to a beat?) is Bucks County.

That was a bit of a stretch when I first came aboard.

We publish editions for Chester, Delaware, and Montgomery Counties. And all of them had editors in place.

Bucks County was the last geographic addition to the family, so it needed an editor.

So I'm learning a ton about Bucks — including that fact that it really doesn't cotton to being called Bucks.

Bucks County seems to be the preference.

Sir Bucks of County, Your Magesty...

Whatever.

So in becoming something of a word machine, I've let this blog go quiet for a while.

I'll dust it off more often, squeezing in content when I can.

So thanks for hanging in there.

You'll hear from me more often moving forward.