23 November 2007
Dear Lorne,

Ever have something suddenly appear out of nowhere, pop you hard when you never saw it coming? Once over the initial shock, after trying to put the pieces back together, they just don't seem to fit like before, yet sometimes after being knocked off course, the new direction has a better feel.

When the writers' strike first started, it made more sense to refrain from getting involved, yet in the attempt to learn more, the more it pulled me in. In my attempt to remedy the situation, rather than find a conciliatory path, I may have thrown fuel on the fire. Not that anyone listens to what I have to say or would even take any of it seriously even if they did. While I may have managed to chomp off the hand that hypothetically might have fed me, at least in my dreams, my response to the APMTP 's open letters looks to have scared them enough to get negotiations started again.

This project's initial framework was to outline my experiences since the Anyone Can Host contest. Then other topics deemed to be more interesting than merely telling my story were interjected with increasing frequency, so to better keep track, they were split into subcategories. There was concern that things may get watered down, when in fact they seem to have fermented. There are twists yet to be worked in, that may not find a slot. The best is yet to come, most likely out of nowhere.

Even with the luxury of an ever expanding backlog, the timeliness of the strike inspired letters imposed a realtime production parameter. Having to buckle down and build around a specific topic forced another gear to kick in, especially considering that I have been on four continents in less than a week, returned to work after many months off and wrote most of this letter on a bus in Brazil. There are so many more issues to share other than the strike, hopefully it will end soon. I have done enough damage, for now.   

When blind sided, without warning, there is no time for fear. Whether a physical attack or opportunity, things bounce around in your head. You come back firing, maybe not on all cylinders or on target, but you come alive for that peak moment, which the rest of life is a lull in between, waiting to be smacked.

Watch your backside,