Thursday, September 14, 2006

An honor

Crazy Train (of thought)

There was chaos in the neighborhood last night as a home down the street burned; my house is about four hours off schedule because the streets were blocked and we couldn’t get home. As a result, the post today is short. I’ll catch up tomorrow.

Please visit my new website and tell me what you think.

I’ve eaten so much sushi this week I think I’m growing gills.

I was cranky yesterday morning and sent this letter to the editor of a photography magazine: “I am so tired of these whiners who complain about having to learn how to use a computer. Digital photography isn’t real photography, they say. Let me ask – is a manuscript less of a book because it was printed from word processing software instead of a typeset printing press, is food less of a meal because I went to the market instead of growing the vegetables myself, is this email less of a letter because it was delivered via the Internet rather than by mail? Grow with the times or get left behind. I prefer to start my car with a key, not a crank. How about you?”

Book Report

It is a great compliment to me when someone tells me of how one of my books has been used in a manner for which it was not planned, but for which it works so well. Whether it is a gift for a soldier in the battlefield to remind one of the love waiting back home, used in a marriage proposal, to announce a pregnancy, or even bridge a gap in a broken relationship, the personal stories of my readers warm my heart and make me cry, as this one does:

“Rarely do I thank an author for the ability to use one of their books in a personal way; most books don’t present themselves with rare opportunities to impact someone’s life. My grandfather, or “Gramps” as we call him, has been slowly declining in health for the past year. For years he’s been nearly deaf making a conversation sharing how you feel about him next to impossible. My sisters and I consider “Gramps” our hero as he depicts every one of the fruits of the spirit with class. As a result, I am sending “Why I Love Grandpa” to them to write their thoughts and then we are hoping to get it to him before he passes. I know this would mean a great deal to him, and additionally, being able to share you deepest feelings for someone before they pass leaves one with no regrets and a gift you cannot buy. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you for writing “Why I Love Grandpa.” You’ll never know just how much it has come to mean to me.”

Sometimes all I can do is pause and say thanks to my Father for allowing me the honor and opportunity to write.

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