On the Job

These first two weeks of 2012 have been a whirlwind of activity.  I've had lengthy conversations with a few editors, with my literary agent, and have also shipped out boxes of books for review.  I've also picked up some new writing jobs, including a commissioned essay (and sidebar) on grant writing.  I'll take it.

Of course, I rarely share the news of my good fortunate at home.  My wife is too busy, my daughter is wrapped in the throes of student teaching and wedding plans, and my son doesn't care.  All in all, the writing gig is just a private affair and (when or if) I do get a small paycheck I usually end up buying groceries or gasoline.  The food is consumed overnight by the boy.  The gasoline goes up in fumes, burned in the frantic drive-time rush of dawn and twilight in four rattle-trap automobiles.

But me?  I write calmly on. 

There's something peaceful to be found in the writing, hunkered over a pot of coffee at five a.m. or with a glass of milk at midnight.  A guy could do worse.

And this week I also received two other accolades that have pleased me deeply.  An editor informed me that one of my poems was the most-read piece in his magazine in 2011.  And another editor wrote requesting that I write a short piece every month for her publication . . . not a column exactly, but enough to keep me busy for fifteen minutes.

And I've got my next job lined up for tonight, seeing as how Becky isn't in the mood to read one of my new romantic poems.  I'll save these for another day when I need to earn a point with the little woman. 

Until then . . . write on.