Because of this lost memory, I made a decision last month to begin collecting all of my previously published work (if I can remember where/who published it). I now have some tearsheets (published pages from magazines), manuscripts with notations and, in some instances, have ordered journal copies containing my work. But it's slow going . . . and I'm looking back now on 30+ years of material.
Yesterday, after receiving a copy of Loch Raven Review (#6), I was surprised to discover that this issue had published not one--but two!--of my pieces. I had ordered under the delusion that the editors had published one of my stories--a mystery entitled "The Palm Reader"--when I noticed in the table-of-contents that this issue also contained one of my non-fiction nature pieces, "The Pileated Woodpecker."
A two-fer!
But I have many lost memories now . . . and I'm glad my wife still calls me by name: "Hey, YOU!" One of these days, I'll remember where I dropped my car keys.
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