"But Richard," I hear a stifled, albeit imaginary, cry, "we all know that; the real question here is where the fuck have you been all this time?"
That's a tricky one to answer, but I'll do my best. Late last year, two very positive things happened: one was an invitation from a professional filmmaker to collaborate on a project, the other was securing corrective surgery for a minor procedure I underwent as a teenager that had resulted in long-standing complications. The former was quite a boon given the difficulties I've had in recent years of drumming up interest in my work from publishers and producers (it may sound like sour grapes, but it's hard finding an outlet if your satirical focus isn't perfectly in line with their values), while the latter, without going into details, would mark the end of a thirty-year journey to finally resolve an issue that's been eating away at my confidence for much of my adult life. As such, I planned to take a little break from WordJam until after these two important commitments had been met.
Cut to late January: my operation had gone smoothly, and I was plugging away like crazy on a scene breakdown for the film project. All the while, though, an unexpected problem was starting to present itself. It began with a mild feeling of discomfort in my right testicle, although at the time I assumed it was a combination of sitting for hours at a computer while working, and the rest required for my recovery. By late February, the film having folded following difficulty securing finance, I found myself practically crippled with pain that flitted from testicle to testicle. After a late night visit to accident and emergency, which thankfully ruled out a testicular torsion, I was booked in for an ultrasound to check for irregularities. Frustratingly - or reassuringly, depending on your point of view - cancer was ruled out, as was the possibility of an infection, but that, of course, left the problem of what the bloody fucking hell is actually going on with my love blobs.
It's a distressing thing when an intimate problem like this goes unresolved, and even more so when it affects your every day life. As such, I hope my readers will understand why things have been so quiet on WordJam recently. Thankfully, the pain I've been experiencing is starting to reduce, my mood is lifting a bit and life is starting to return to normal, which, despite the medical limbo I've been living with for the last few months, is making me a little more gregarious again. As such, I hope to be posting more on WordJam in the coming weeks. There are a number of pieces I've been working on recently which I'll be putting out soon, although they may need to be backdated so they make sense. You'll know what I mean when I publish them.
Anyway, for now, thanks for your continued support: I can see from the stats there's a very loyal audience out there, and as we're racing towards WordJam's tenth anniversary and a quarter of a million views, rest assured this blog isn't dead - it's just been taking a leave of absence.
Onwards folks.
