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  I've truly been blessed to meet, get to know, and even become friends with hundreds —possibly thousands— of writers over the last three decades. Many of those contacts have come through the Oklahoma Writers' Federation Inc ., SoonerCon , Yard Dog Press , and a score of other writing groups, writing conferences, and Sci-Fi conventions I've attended. Once upon a time, I was envious of how much more talent some of those writers possessed. I felt insignificant. I was a tiny drop of water in a giant sea. I was always struggling to keep my head above water, and always sinking farther and farther below more talented and more successful authors. When I retired from the theatre, nearly 35 years ago, I retired at a time when I was completely confident in my talent and abilities as an actor. I retired at a time when I was at my peak and knew I could have been a professional actor if I had pursued that career. Because of that confidence, I had the ability to walk away from...

Dreamed I was in a musical. Which we all know I do not do, because I can't sing, and I don't dance. At the end of the third act, I  had this wonderful solo. I was allowed to speak my part instead of singing it. I followed an amazing tenor,  who sang an Italian Aria about a man who lost the love of his life. She had her heart ripped out, and was left alone, bleeding, and dying, in an ally, during a storm. As she took her final breath, he found her, cradled her in his arms, and pledged to avenge her death. As he exited stage right, I entered stage left. Same setting. Same ally. Still raining. His lover's blood still fresh and warm on the bricks. My solo was actually a beautiful, interpretive dance, to the same piece of music as the tenor's Italian Aria. I spoke different words in English. My song told the story of a woman, abandoned at birth, still searching for her mother. The Italian tenor returned. He accused me of being the one who killed his lover...