This carefully maintained dock holds a growing collection of the written word. Here, you’ll find thought provoking articles, unique stories, private letters, personal notes, deep musings, and occasionally, even poetry. Much of the content here has never been shared publicly. For whatever reason, some pieces were tucked away by the writer for years. Now, it’s all available for you.
I talk to quite a few people in person. In one form or another, it has been interesting to note that advice of one sort or another seems to turn out to be the topic. And specifically, there is one question that continues to recur in almost every conversation I have: What do I do now?
he times, they are a changing.” Bob Dylan wrote those words more than a half century ago, but they are at least as accurate now as they were then. “The answer, my friend, is blowing in the wind.” That was Bob Dylan, too, at about the same time. In today’s economy, that one is more true.
One of the things I’ve learned to embrace in life is the art of taking risks. Now, when I say “risks” I’m not talking about betting your savings account on a horse race or going skydiving. I’m talking about doing things that most people would consider to be out of the ordinary. I’m talking about putting yourself in an uncomfortable position in order to create massive change in your life.
When I was a boy, we had a Collie named Champ. My parents were out of town when Champ was hit by a car and killed. I can still remember my tears as the lady who was staying with me helped bury our dog in the far corner of the backyard. At the time (I was about twelve) I didn’t understand how something like that could have happened.
Today begins a new series of conversations with published authors. Unloaded at HOW DO I? and THE WRITER’S DOCK at the same time, these conversations will include all the inside information you’ll want to know—from the very best sources—about How Do I Write A Book?
When I was a little girl, my grandfather owned a small farm in Michigan. When it came time for the spring plowing, I often walked behind my grandpa as he held the reins of the team of horses that were hitched to a four-bottom plow. I usually had an old empty coffee can grandma gave me for picking up earthworms and nightcrawlers from the fresh furrows, so we could fish the many lakes in Calhoun County.
From the pen of Gloria Gaither, this piece for The Sensible Scribe will remind you how fortunate we are for the materials that are often taken for granted in our daily lives.
For some reason, I remember it being a Thursday. With lightning speed, my dad’s callused right hand landed on my face. I lifted my arms in a feeble attempt to block the next blow, but the left hand was also successful in finding its target.
Storms of Perfection IV unmasks the true human stories behind 52 successes that have literally made history.