I Can Publish My Blogs In A Book
But the cost for 1,437 pages? It ain't cheap ... and I am. Yeah, we’ve gone something like that in the number of blogs here. I’ve printed out almost all of them and they are in file folders, three months per. I suppose I could get them 3-hole punched and put into some sort of binder, one year at a time: the library of “Things at King’s.”
I know a couple people who might like to have the complete collection, but on a blog this size (daily except cruises, since April 2006) that’s a lot of work.
“The Collected Works of Tom Carten” would be a far thicker set of books than just this blog. What you see here would be the size of a good-sized dictionary, but that’s not all there is to this wordsmith and his ever-busy mind powering his ever-moving fingers across the keyboards of many typewriters and computers.
I spent seven years as Music, Dance and Drama Critic for the local newspaper and, let me tell you, there is a lot going on around here. Then there are the 1500 music columns for the same newspaper, plus 23 years of weeklies for another place, 5+ years of a weekly, folder after folder of free-lance, 100 short stories.
My file cabinet overflows. Every time I see an object, an action, a person, I think up a piece I could write about it and wish I had something to transcribe my thoughts. Look! A stone in the middle of the street! A bird on a telephone wire! “A bird once pooped on a stone. / I said, 'Leave that poor thing alone.'"/. And the limerick takes form.
I know a couple people who might like to have the complete collection, but on a blog this size (daily except cruises, since April 2006) that’s a lot of work.
“The Collected Works of Tom Carten” would be a far thicker set of books than just this blog. What you see here would be the size of a good-sized dictionary, but that’s not all there is to this wordsmith and his ever-busy mind powering his ever-moving fingers across the keyboards of many typewriters and computers.
I spent seven years as Music, Dance and Drama Critic for the local newspaper and, let me tell you, there is a lot going on around here. Then there are the 1500 music columns for the same newspaper, plus 23 years of weeklies for another place, 5+ years of a weekly, folder after folder of free-lance, 100 short stories.
My file cabinet overflows. Every time I see an object, an action, a person, I think up a piece I could write about it and wish I had something to transcribe my thoughts. Look! A stone in the middle of the street! A bird on a telephone wire! “A bird once pooped on a stone. / I said, 'Leave that poor thing alone.'"/. And the limerick takes form.
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