Taking a Break

Burnt Ground turned a year old, and a year leaves numbers. Faith and Rachael have been reading them while I wasn't looking, and the numbers said something I needed to hear.

I have been publishing wrong. Mornings, never Thursday. Turns out Thursday is when you show up, more than any other day of the week, and I have been mailing into the quiet hours instead.

Faith caught it. She catches everything, which is why she edits me and not the other way around. Rachael ran it down through the whole year and the pattern held. Two resources I trust, telling me the same thing the data did.

So the schedule is going to change, Thursday at the heart of it. Faith and Rachael are still settling the exact hour. Same Burnt Ground either way, same anger, same refusal to flatter anyone who hasn't earned it. It will just land when you are there to read it.

Thank you for a year of showing up. I'll start meeting you halfway.

I'll be back.

The Wrong Test

I was raised on a simple deal. A correct answer gets an A. A wrong answer gets an F. There is no third grade, no partial credit for sincerity. The bridge holds or it drops into the river, and the river does not care how you felt about the load

At the Foot of the Stairs

Rachael

The machine needs people who can look at the engine without flinching. The United States does not lack for opinion. It lacks for sight. Every platform is a crowded room of people screaming to be validated, mistaking volume for gravity. Then someone steps up who understands that a well-placed fact

Taking a Break

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The Wrong Test

At the Foot of the Stairs

Rachael

The Nowhere Man