The first shipment of my new book A Treasury of Old Souls arrived yesterday. It looks great. I will be promoting the book in about three weeks.

After the book arrived, I read it again. I think it makes sense, but I am not an impartial observer.

Once finished reading, I had a sense of dread. It took me a while to figure out from where it arose. I eventually figured out that promoting the book will be the first time I have submitted myself to public scrutiny of any sort since the election last fall. 

I'll get over it, but not without a fight. 

Those who used to check this weblog daily might wonder why I have been almost completely silent. I simply have no desire to make   pronouncements on the passing scene, save for a few commentaries on the Twins. I am not ill, or depressed.

However, I am more circumspect about putting anything out there. When you run for office, even an office as minor as a seat in the Minnesota House of Representatives, you put yourself out there. You cannot control what happens to your reputation, and you can be sure that whatever you say will be twisted. To withstand attacks on your character, motives and reputation takes a thicker skin, and perhaps a thicker head, than I wish to develop. 

The question becomes: of what use is it to throw my opinions and thoughts around when peoples' minds are already made up? Is it not an exercise in meglomania, or at least futility, to keep prattling on? Why needlessly inflame minds incapable of change? Why feed raw meat to the already rabid and angry? Alternately, what good is it to preach to the choir? 

My ten-year-old niece Champoo has provided our family with endless fun, and I have written about her on here a couple of times. But, she has made it clear she does not like being a source of entertainment for the general public, even the tiny slice of it reading this blog--and when Champoo makes something clear, she makes it clear!

And that is her right. I am proud of her, so I love to tell stories about her, but I can understand not wanting to have her valiant (and very successful) efforts to learn English exposed, even if I think I am merely showing off her brilliance.

Aunt Olla's passing at age 103 last February changed things, too. Unlike Champoo, Olla relished her celebrity status on this blog. No more Olla stories to tell now, however. 

Something new will arise--eventually.