Brain Freeze

I woke up in the middle of the night Saturday night, or I think I did, with an idea for today's blog post. I was going to talk about adoption, a topic close to my heart. I'm starting a new book, in which one of the main characters is a grown adoptee. In the course of researching it I had a long talk with a friend who is an adult adoptee, about the problems of finding one's birth parents once one was grown up.

As I lay in bed, awake, asleep, who knows, I blocked out an interesting and cogent essay on the adoption dynamic, on how dreadful it must be to have no idea where you came from or who your people might be, or where your child has gone. I was going to call it "Where Babies Come From." That was sure to pull an audience.

In the morning the whole brilliant piece was gone, if it had ever been there. What can I say? I had taken an allergy pill before I went to bed. They usually shave a good twenty-five points off my IQ. I'm still feeling the effects. I sat down just now to write another post on the subject and came up with nothing but pompous drivel.

I can't write today. Luckily I'm not a journalist on deadline. Nobody is paying me to do this. I'm going to take a pass. Here's a picture of the cover of my next book, due out on August 16 of this year. Have a look. It's moderately entertaining. I'll be back next week when my head clears.