Thursday, December 18, 2014
As a writer, you occasionally find that ink doesn't work. You need to plunge your pen into a vein, drawing blood, then use that to scribble your thoughts.
Such was the case with my piece in today's Boston Herald. Once I opened the wound, it flowed.
The story is not one of which I'm particularly proud - and I almost deep-sixed it before finally resolving to send it off - but I figure it might save someone heartache down the road and I don't believe keeping it to myself would have made me feel appreciably better, so...
HERE IT IS.
As always, kind comments and letters to the editor, etc.
And, on the subject of comments, etc., please pray for M/Sgt (retired) Buck Pennington, my buddy from Portales, New Mexico. He has been one of my most faithful when it comes to leaving nice comments at the Herald website, and I wish there was more of some human nature that I could do for him in his current state, but he needs the sort of help God provides. Anything you think might facilitate that... Thanks from the bottom of my heart.
Soon, with more.