J. W. Pinkerton, Author
John W. Pinkerton
For a long time I've been thinking about publishing a book---not a big deal today.  Vanity presses will publish just about anything you send them.  Publishers figured out that a lot of people are pretty desperate to be published.  However, I ain't one of them.
Recently I read that McDonalds is giving away books with happy meals.  That's nice of them, but what does this say about the value of books today.  Happy meals?  Really?

Now, there's nothing wrong with vanity presses.  Heck, it's damned near impossible to get a publisher to publish a book unless it's by someone who killed someone, saved someone, or knows someone.

To my knowledge, I've never killed anyone, never saved a life, and the folks I know are pretty average…nice but average…not “someone.”

It crossed my mind to publish a book after I started writing my essays and other stuff.  So far I've written 200 essays, 2 short stories, and 19 songs and poems.  (G. K. Chesterton wrote over 4000 essays, and I ain't no Chesterton.)  I know this doesn't exactly set a record by any means, but for an old guy, this ain't too bad.

Maybe if I make it to 400 essays, 10% of what Chesterton wrote, I'll consider a book seriously. 
When I was a young fellow, I would have probably sacrificed a lot to have a book published.  I could see myself as a novelist.  I was a great admirer of Faulkner, Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Robert Penn Warren, and Terry Southern.  Terry Southern doesn't seem to belong in this group, but his novel Candy was the first naughty book I ever read.  I understand he wrote it for the money, and I believe he accomplished his goal.

Anyway, as the years passed, I moved away from fiction as my personal choice for leisure reading toward biographies and other works based on facts.

When I finally got around to writing a couple of short stories, I realized that it was painful for me.  I guess being a school teacher and trying to tell the truth for so many years kind of ruined my skills as a writer of fiction…after all, writing fiction is a form of lying---good lying, but lying nevertheless.

Although I taught poetry when I taught, I never had much respect for most of it.  However, I thoroughly taught myself all of the elements of poetry---rhyme, rhythms, alliteration, etc.

Of late, I find myself writing more of it.  It's usually based on leftover thoughts…thoughts I can't turn into a full blown essay or thoughts which compliment an essay I've written.  I like the discipline of poetry---the regular line lengths, the regular rhymes…I ain't much on free verse which I call prose.  More often than not, I write the poems to keep my mind busy until I think of a suitable essay subject.

Yeah, if I live long enough and don't forget, I'll probably publish a book…mostly my essays.  I know I'll lose money doing this, but I'm old and I think I want to pamper myself a bit.
If I do publish, I'll have to get myself something like the beard I acquired when I became an artist…maybe a tweed jacket with leather elbow patches…yeah, that's the ticket.  


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