Why Am I Biding My Time?

While attempting to clean up some of my old and seldom visited folders within the electronic filing cabinet that is my computer, I became distracted by reading some of the old unpublished stories residing therein. Most of these old stories were in sore need of revision... but I wondered why the devil I was letting them all just lie there like useless articles of assorted junk. They were actual stories and could, with a bit of work, be sent off in hopes of finding a publisher.

Why not? It will take a good bit of work and lots of time, but why should that be a problem?

Sounds like a plan . . .

_____

As I was writing this blog entry, a large hawk flew up and landed in a tree just outside my room. I grabbed up my camera, and...

Hawk through window screen

Not the best snapshot, but . . .

_____

Another thought just materialized in my mind. I can collect all those stories, poems, and flash fiction squiggles into a special folder, revise and polish them, convert them to .pdf files, and then self-publish them in a single volume, using that new Amazon.com process. So what if it is not a literary masterpiece? So what if it is a piece of trash? How many other books by other authors that I've read were, in my humble opinion, no more than pieces of trash?

Along with the stories, I could also intersperse them with short autobiographical bits about my somewhat unconventional life in the middle of the twentieth century, and... whatever. Such as the time I found myself alone and penniless in Nebraska and worked as a tractor driving hay-raker in the meadows of a large cattle ranch -- alongside a fascinating (and eye opening) pair of brothers who happened to be full-blooded Sioux Indians. The product of such an endeavor might be of some interest to readers (especially those of my not yet born family members) in the near or far future.

This too sounds like a plan . . .

_____

So, what am I waiting for?

__________