I thought writing — the physical act of moving a marking implement across paper — was akin to bicycle riding, a task you never forgot how to do.

It’s the wardrobe that always gives me fits. And no matter how I pare down, based on past experiences, I inevitably pack too much.

And here it is, the Ninc Goes Platinum program. No, not set in stone, but you can consider it a Second Draft, with the Final Draft to be tinkered with until we’re all happy.

Writing is like breathing, it’s what I do. Fiction, nonfiction, blogs, Facebook, MySpace, emails — not so many handwritten letters any longer, alas, and no longer any diaries.