Confessions of a Serial Scribbler
I have an awful confession to make: I cannot make it through a day without writing. Not One.
Last week my house was evacuated (the flood of 2004). Although the house is on "River Road," it sits at the top of a long driveway, the third and last house, about fifteen feet higher than the first house. No imminent danger. But the township shut our utilities down and we had to get out.
After going to the local firehouse to regroup, I read the day's paper for a few minutes, then I began writing.
Serially. Maybe not seriously.
My dad passed away about 5 years ago, but my mother still has a note from me that he saved. It was written when I was 7 years old, announcing that ants were overrunning our kitchen (I'd seen maybe 3 ants).
One of the rasher decisions I've ever made was to join the Army after 2 years of college. Thank God it was just 2 years -- I was in the 82nd Airborne, an "elite" unit, both in performance and boredom when not performing. Not your typical rainy day type boredom.
That's when I discovered how to "really" read and really write. And where the addiction began.
Last week my house was evacuated (the flood of 2004). Although the house is on "River Road," it sits at the top of a long driveway, the third and last house, about fifteen feet higher than the first house. No imminent danger. But the township shut our utilities down and we had to get out.
After going to the local firehouse to regroup, I read the day's paper for a few minutes, then I began writing.
Serially. Maybe not seriously.
My dad passed away about 5 years ago, but my mother still has a note from me that he saved. It was written when I was 7 years old, announcing that ants were overrunning our kitchen (I'd seen maybe 3 ants).
One of the rasher decisions I've ever made was to join the Army after 2 years of college. Thank God it was just 2 years -- I was in the 82nd Airborne, an "elite" unit, both in performance and boredom when not performing. Not your typical rainy day type boredom.
That's when I discovered how to "really" read and really write. And where the addiction began.
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