I just signed up at Twitter in the hope that by tweeting regularly, it will cause me to blog more regularly and when all those Twitter types see how clever I am, they will race here and see what a wit I am and will clamor for more of that certain je ne sais quois de Reed Next, oui? Circular logic, I know but I've got to do something to spur myself on. Otherwise, I'll continue on as the most irregular blogger on the planet and will never be able to afford that operation for my maiden aunt since I'm paid so extravagantly for doing this.
You can follow me on Twitter: @reednext
I even found a photo of me I'd forgotten all about to use as my profile pic. It's from a few years back and was taken in the rumpus room with my old dog, Wally. A good dog, Wally was, and a good friend. He could hold his gin better than a bunch of Episcopalian country clubbers on 4th of July.
And since this is supposed to be a blog about books, I finished Hello Everybody: The Dawn of American Radio by Anthony Rudel last night (most enjoyable and I shall write more soon) and started the much vaunted Manual of Detection by Jedediah Berry. I was only a few pages into it before the Sandman smacked me upside the head but I'm quite intrigued. Thus far, it smacks of Jasper Fforde so that bodes well.