To be perfectly honest, there is a deeper purpose behind my motivation to write. I do hope to convince people of something. Recently, it was well illustrated to me by an incident that happened at work. During a reading I was giving of Annie Dillard, the point was made that she couldn’t be much of a Christian if she didn’t
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I admit it: I’m sort of strange. I’ve got over-active imagination disorder. I’m a bit of a geek and all my experience as a self-conscious, self-focused teenager is hard to shake. I realized recently that I tend to be protective of my geekiness as though it entitles me to eccentricity and wearing mismatched socks and being standoffish. I don’t know
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Okay, this is so big brother it will freak you out. Or if it doesn’t, you’re just more comfortable with the whole Internet-looking-over-your-shoulder thing than I am. I just found out about this, so if I’m a bit slow to the party, bear with me here. There are a number of sites out there listed as referers on my hits
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So far, I haven’t said anything about myself or what sort of life I lead, not wanting to focus undue attention on the trivialities of my oh-so-exciting existence (I guess I mentioned I was an associate editor yesterday) (and there’s enough of that stuff on my bio page). But today I want to share some things about writing as a
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Being an associate editor is kind of like little Mikey on the Life cereal commercials, always handed the stuff no one else wants because Hey, he likes it! He has to like it. He’s the littlest. It’s a bit annoying. There’s only so much you can take. Actually, there’s only so much of most things you can take. I can’t
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