Yo, Editor. Over Here!

Thanks for everyone's appreciative comments on my last blog. It is gratifying to know that my writing can be meaningful to people at times. To which my wife adds, "If you could get some money out of it, it would be even better," That is my goal. Other bloggers have made it. Deb and Monique are both familiar bloggers here who have publishers seeking their talents. Deb has written a story to be included in an upcoming Chicken Soup for the Dog Lover's Soul. Heck, why not me!

So Chicken Soup for the Dog's Lover's Soul is at the book binder's. I'm too late for that one. But our family also has a pet mouse. When Chicken Soup for the Mouse Lover's Soul advertises for material, I'm there. I will charm the editors recounting how our mouse escaped from its cage, triggering a desperate search of our family room. And nobody was more angst-ridden than my wife over the missing little fellow. Mousie Come Home--it's a winner.


Of course, I thought my Christmas story about a dad masquerading as Santa Claus to make true believers out of his kids was going to be a sure-fire hit too. I entered it in a Detroit Free Press holiday short story contest about twenty years back. So convinced was I that I had struck gold that I instructed a secretary to pull me out of a meeting if the phone ever rang for me. But no call ever came. When the winning stories were published, they ran a list of "honorable mentions." Then the editors added a few others they thought were good too. Not mine, none of them.

A couple years ago I set my sights a little lower. When an Ann Arbor monthly entertainment guide begat its annual literary contest, I figured myself to be a shoo-in. I had concocted a wonderful little ditty about a talking test tube blob that would make me the next Ray Bradbury. I even paid an entry fee of $5. Again however, no prize, no acknowledgement, not even a rejection letter.

Okay, there was the time I set my sights even lower. A weekly newspaper ran a Valentine's Day contest asking for something cute and mushy in 25 words or less. They had about 20 entries. And I FINALLY prevailed! I won one of the five prizes--a free haircut by a professional barber. That gave me hope

Could be I'm just a late bloomer with my literary career. Folk artist Grandma Moses didn't sell her first painting until she was nearly 80. So I figure I'm still on track for my Pulitzer. I'm not sure my wife agrees anymore. But I'll show her. One day they'll say about us, "Behind every successful man is a surprised woman."