I like to write about stuff. Serious stuff.

I know. Aren’t I supposed to be a humorous writer? Isn’t my primary aim meant to be to make people laugh?

Well, yes, I suppose it is. But humour can be so much more than just funny stuff, good for a giggle and little else. Humour is also a great way to present serious issues. In particular, it’s a really great way to cut right down to the core of an issue.

Well here we are. Right back at the beginning again. 2018 is gone and 2019 beckons, a big, wide landscape, an empty canvas ready to be painted over, a blank page waiting to be filled with words.

So before I run out of metaphors, let me wish everyone out there a happy new year.

Whoosh!

Did that just happen again? Another year has sped past before my eyes. Hard to believe it was only beginning and suddenly it’s just about gone.

So there’s nothing left to do except take a look back and review my progress.

I’m not usually a big one for attracting attention to myself. I’m not the type to say ‘Look at me, look at me.’ I rarely even post pictures of myself on this blog (or anywhere else for that matter).

But every so often, something happens and I feel like I can’t restrain myself. I have to put myself out there. Tell the world all about it. And that’s exactly what happened last week.

Do you know about the story bullies?

If you spend any time in any sort of writing community, you won’t be able to avoid them.

They seem to be everywhere. Appearing in writing forums in social media. Posting up articles on the web. Filling the halls of creative writing classes in universities.