Looking back, I can see that March was also a rather productive month, all things considered. I had two pieces published in an outdoor sporting magazine (beavers and bass) in addition to five book reviews, two essays and one longer article on grant writing--all for pay no less. And I also had a couple of essays accepted and slated for publication, as well as two short stories, and on Thursday a publisher wrote to request a look-see at two of my book proposals. All of this in addition to sermons, studies, blogs, and at least forty new poems. Not bad for a month's work before sunrise.
But my best effort won't show up on this stat sheet. I also wrote an entire church catalogue--about thirty pages worth of material--most of it in my sleep. It was plodding work, but somebody had to do it.
I also reviewed some writing that my daughter (Chelsey) had completed, and a couple of essays written by my son (Logan). Holy cheese-puff, Batman! My kids can write. I told them so. I want to instill some confidence in them to pursue some type of a life with words. They should not back away from it.
My son, who is excited about attending Vincennes University next fall, asked me one evening, "Do they test you much in college?"
My response was, "Probably not as much as in high school. Sometimes, you only have one exam for a class, and the final is 100% of the grade."
"I'd hate that," he said. "Too much pressure."
"Maybe," I answered. "Unless it's an essay question. Then you can ace it. Anyone gives you a chance to write . . . let 'er rip."
Mad stuff for a March.
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