Of shoes and ships and sealing wax, of Spanns and snarks and things.

Welcome to the blog. If every journey begins with a single step, and every blog with a tired cliche, then it looks like my work is done here.

Not that either of those tell you much about me, so let’s give that a whirl. When the rest of the website goes live (and I know you’re living your lives in anticipation of that moment) the “about” page will tell you approximately the following:

“Susan Spann lives in Northern California with her husband, teenage son, and three cats (though one of them is large enough that it should really count as two). When not running amok, she writes historical fiction. She also enjoys swimming, archery, gardening, and trying to keep crabgrass out of the lawn. She’s not very good at the crabgrass part.”

Not a great bio, but every time I try to write a more serious one the snark breaks free from its cage and starts running amok. In fact, the snark breaks free on a regular basis (hence the category title), so consider yourselves warned.

Some of you might not understand what I mean by the snark. Permit me to explain. Snarks have a long and glorious history.

That little voice that told the emperor he had no clothes on? That was a Snark.  When your best friend asks the inevitable question, “does this make my butt look big?” the honest-but-silent voice in your head that wants to scream “OF COURSE IT DOES OR YOU WOULDN’T HAVE ASKED ME!” – that’s the snark, rattling the bars.

As a general rule, it’s not the caged snark you need to worry about.  It’s the one that breaks free.  Because once it’s out, it’s going to stay a while.  And that, as you either know or will soon enough, is where the fun begins.

Welcome to the website.  Stop and stay a spell.  Or a span(n), depending on your preference.   Try not to worry about the snark.  It’s harmless, as long as you don’t take yourself too seriously.