Writer's Dream

I have always loved words. When I learned that they had no intention of teaching me to read in kindergarten, I refused to go back. My mother showed me the code – the secret of the alphabet. I've been hooked ever since.

I love to read. I read books and magazines. I read newspapers and notices. I read the back of cereal boxes if that is all that is available. Words cry out to be decoded. Words speak to me.

I played with writing when I was a teenager. I wrote horrid stories and worse poetry. It was awful. And then my life caught up with me and I was too busy to write. But I never gave up reading.

I went back to writing after that 'empty nest' part of my life kicked in. I had time again. My stories were still horrid, but I wasn't writing for a large audience. I wrote to see if I could. I think I can. I know I've gotten better with practice.

I'm good with writing essays, especially opinion pieces. When I have an opinion, I can list reasons why not only I have that opinion, but why you should, too. When I went back to college in my dotage, I learned that I could also write business essays and technical manuals.

Then I found RGQ and wrote letters in the comments section. Lots of letters. And then I pitched an idea to Bruce about a little 'this day in history' thing that has grown into my essays with attendant quotes in the three issues every week. And I've filled in the off days and have an entire book written containing expanded essays with at least four quotes per essay that I would love to see published. But that takes a lot of work and I've not done that – yet.

Publishing is very hard work. Writing is easy for me. I don't do too much polishing. I type, I spell check, I reread and correct, I plop it up on a blog or message board. Finished! I understand that some people agonize over each word. I agonize over the flaws I see, but I only notice them after I've plopped them somewhere.

At MWC, there was a message thread called Station Shorts where people wrote flash fiction about characters who were abandoned or no longer used by their Boss or Author. It was fun and imaginative. The word play was exhilarating. And the thread grew. And more people contributed. And I joined in the fun, even though I was new to MWC and late to the game.

Then someone mentioned that we could publish the whole and there were volunteers to put together the string of about 70 stories into a cohesive whole. Mark Hoffman, Citabria, is my hero. I cannot even imagine the number of hours he put into the job of getting us all published. But he was willing to take on the task of making the book.

And so now, about 50 years after I first learned to read, I'm published in a book. Me. And Tim and Gyppo, and about 10 to 15 more of us playful people who learned to love words long ago, or in some cases – not so long ago. We have a book for sale! On Lulu, where you, yes you, can buy a copy.

I've been published in a monthly magazine put out by a HOA where we once lived. I've been published in a scientific journal as a co-author on a psychology study, I've been published in RGQ, and I've been published on my blogs. But now I'm part of a book.

A real book. Station Shorts is for sale. And, get this, I'm one of the authors. I am beyond thrilled. You've got my word on that.