We get letters. Letters and postcards plus DMs and faxes as well as, yes, all those cheery cease and desist notices. And this week the letterbox has been filled with questions about the upcoming revival of The Session – like this letter which arrived from J. Wannamaker of Bingree, Indiana:
I was talking with my friends the other day over coffee and one of them mentioned the possible revival of The Session. We thought it was great back in the day and I said I’d like to try it this month… but I am wondering… is writing something for The Session going to take up too much of my time.
How much time? Are you kidding me? People whip this stuff off on a lap top as they gawk past the screen at whatever game is on. Go’wan! Get scribbling!! What to write about? Anything I’m sure that responds to the theme “…the best thing to happen in good beer since 2018?” In fact, others have asked what can be submitted. One K. M. of the vicinity of Manchester asks if her proposed topic is within bounds:
Does anyone want tasting notes for WD40 versus GT85?
Probably. Maybe. Yes, I am sure we would receive anything along that line – if only to education me on exactly what that meant! Which is exactly why K.M. needs to enter. Even more puzzling was this inquiry from email sender sixfingers993$A@aol.com:
Best wished for your revolutionary website. It is truly a compelling story. Your invitation to The Session conveys both confidence and a treasure trove of information. Will a multifaceted response soar?
I am sure it will. Soar on, sixfingers993$A! Soar on!! And, finally, we also heard from Jess B. of somewhere in Britain with this question:
Can I just write it by myself… for once???
Of course. Why not! Oh. Perhaps I should have answered that one privately. Oh well. Too late.
So… there you have it. This Friday is the day. You write. I will read. As will everyone else because… the internets. I’ll be sure to update any further inquires before the deadline. But – on your bike. Have a go. Once again, the rules are here. If you can even call them rules. Prizes? There are no prizes. Who’s running this show anyway? Lordy.