Henri Lets It All Hang Out

I'm afraid my dear mon ami Alysabeth has brought me out of how do you 21st century homo sapiens call it...lurkdom? Actually, Henri has been having some issues and the therapist lady tells me I need to write thoughts down. The last thing that Henri wants to do is write because something happened. Something terrible has happened which made me check into another dimension to clear my thoughts.

The truth of the matter is I cannot hold my head up. It's hard enough that it's semi-attached, but that's another issue not related at all.

You see, it's something I have learned about being an author. It's that they can take away your title as fast as they give it to you and the sad thing about it is that I have done nothing about it but run off into the nether and hide my face in shame.

Henri was finally something, you know? And not only that, I had acquired a lot of friends who were rooting for me, egging me on to do things that I did not think were possible of Henri. I have met so many wonderful people and now I know those wonderful people are not going to come to Henri and laugh at what Henri says anymore. I'm beating around the tree because the truth is hard to come out, but I must let it out.

My book is gone. All of it. The lady at Mardi Gras Publishing could not handle the stress, so I heard, and took off. I don't know where she is, but I know she's in hiding. Where I have been in another dimension, I have not thought to come back to this realm and look for her and wring her scrawny, little...ah...bad Henri.

And what is bad also is that you cannot buy my book anymore, so PLEASE DON'T. The money will go to the wench instead. I don't even know if I have the rights to it anymore because it is tied up in legal mumbo jumbo. Something about if the judge doesn't approve her bankruptcy, the rights remain with her. I not understand all of it.

So, I'm the ghost without a book. But, you know, I might be a ghost without a book, but I still am a ghost with a story. A mighty fine story, but it saddens me to think about it.

And, so, I know not what to do.