Sorry, no time. I’ve been taking a grueling editing test over the last three days (think of it as a major exam) in hopes of snagging a major editing gig. If I qualify for this opportunity, then I may have some more steady income rolling in. That means I can then dedicate at least “some” time for my writing instead of working nonstop (as has been my habit of late). I’d appreciate your prayers that I pass the test. Thanks.
Read moreRecently, I came across a guest blog at a popular website about Christian fiction. The author (who shall remain nameless) was talking about how she wrote her stories and mentioned that she’d written over one hundred books. Wow. That’s quite an achievement. I’m sure many of us would love to be in her shoes. Cold, Empty Feeling The post was informative and inspiring. But when I reached the final period, an emptiness echoed deep in my soul, reminding me of an audio interview I had listened to last spring. Another successful Christian author answered questions about his vast career and publishing fame. The conclusion of that interview had left me with the same cold, empty feeling. Now, let me pause and say this: I want to be very careful that readers don’t write me off as being harsh and judgmental. I don’t know the hearts of these authors, and I’m…
Read moreIt’s hard to sum up a life in only a few words. And this offering certainly doesn’t do this amazing worker, provider, father, husband, and grandfather justice. Exactly one year ago today, my father, Larry, only 71, said good-bye to this life and stepped into a much better one after a two-and-half-year struggle with brain cancer. He left behind a wife, a daughter, three sons, a son-in-law, three daughters-in-law, and eleven grandkids. Beyond a few mementos and clothes that didn’t fit my brothers but fit me perfectly, all I have left of Dad, a GM retiree, are scriptural values and beliefs he instilled in my life. And of course precious memories—and what a treasure trove I have to draw from. Not only for my writing but just to remember Dad for who he was. Lest I ever forget. I’ll never forget the beautiful Revolutionary War-style muzzleloader Dad built from a…
Read moreIn January 1991, I began a newspaper internship at the Greenville Piedmont (now defunct) in Greenville, South Carolina. It was my senior year in college, and I was graduating in May with a BA degree in print journalism. One of the more unusual “adventures” (misadventures might be a better word) occurred the day the managing editor turned to me with an unusual assignment. “I’d like you to drive over to the Greenville Hilton and see if you can track down Shirley MacLaine. She’s doing a show in town, and I heard she’s staying there.” No joke. Now, many of us think of Shirley as a New Age guru, but actually she’s a pretty talented woman. (And no, this is no endorsement of her beliefs or anything else she represents.) I just sort of stared at him. I was a twenty-year-old journalism nobody who wrote feature stories about city volunteers and…
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