Looking back through these journal entries I realize that I spend a lot of time looking back. There is also, often, an air of melancholy. The frequency surprises me.

Over the years, the majority of my writing has been humor. Heck, I produced nothing but mini-comics for several years. My first real professional sale (to Baby Talk magazine) was a humorous essay. The first novel I ever finished was a mystery done strictly for laughs.

Maybe it takes more effort to see the funny side of things than I typically put into these mental snapshots. For me, at least.

It's not that I am depressed. I recall (roughly) the line from the television series Millennium when the perpetually lugubrious appearing protagonist Frank Black, played wonderfully by Lance Henricksson, was asked about his gloomy demeanor. "I'm not depressed," he explained, "I'm just serious."

That's me. Serious. Particularly in public. Writing a journal is awfully close to being out in public. Some people cover their nervousness by being silly, I put on my serious hat.