| Biographical Non-Fiction posted February 9, 2021 |
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Ask a Silly Question, Get A Silly Answer
I Don't Know About Anybody Else
by Earl Corp
Why I write is a good question. I usually tell people I have the face for radio and the voice for television, so I write.
I hated writing in high school, it seemed tedious to me. My sister, on the other hand always aspired to be an author and was always writing something.
One thing was I liked to read. Louis L’amour was one of my favorites. When you read his author page he said when he wrote about a stream there was a stream there and the water was good to drink.
What I liked about reading was you could take a trip and never leave the farm. One time during a study hall in February I was reading Battle Cry by Leon Uris. Uris was so descriptive talking about the Marines on Guadalcanal, when I read about the mosquitos and flies I was swatting at them. Uris had taken me there.
Since I never planned on going to college I didn’t take typing. I still type with only one finger, hunt and peck style.
It wasn’t until I made sergeant in the Army was my talent, and I use that word loosely, for writing discovered.
We had to write monthly counseling statements for each of our subordinates. My counseling statements always got high marks from my platoon sergeant. He started calling me a “wordsmith.”
Since I was the platoon wordsmith I was tasked with writing awards for soldiers. My awards were so well written they were always approved and I only had one downgraded in ten years. I started taking night courses and some of my professors praised my work and encouraged me to keep at it. That’s something none of my high school teachers ever did.
After I got out of the Army I attended Slippery Rock University to get a teaching certificate in history. We were required to take at least two intensive writing courses, I took nine.
I found that I have an ability to write a research paper fairly quickly, but I am also a procrastinator. My wife Anna would get the syllabus for a class and start immediately doing the research. She would spend the whole semester working on the paper.
Me, on the other hand, would let it slide until the Friday before it was due. Anna was jealous because I was turning in first drafts and getting “A”s while she would pull a “B” for a whole semester’s work.
After college I didn’t get a teaching job right away.
I would read our local newspaper and think to myself, “I can do better than this.” I actually took it as a challenge to prove that I better than the reporters they already had.
I answered an ad for a reporter position. The editor asked me to sit down and write about something that was breaking news. I did in about 10 minutes and was hired on the spot.
I became the weekend reporter, which I thought was pretty cool. I was attending events and writing what I saw. Most of the time they’re happy you’re there and nine times out of ten they’ll feed you. Tell me a better gig than that.
I applied to a bigger paper after a couple of years. I brought in a Monday morning paper for my clips. I had three articles on the front page, an article on page two, a column I had written, and I had an article on the sports page.
He was impressed, I told him I’d done everything at the paper but draw a comic strip, but I said, if you’re in the market for The Adventures of Stick Figure Man, then I’m your guy.”
I went back to the smaller paper about three years ago. I took over the weekend gig again and I help sports out by covering football, wrestling, and baseball.
I get a thrill when I walk in somewhere and they have an article by me hung up on the wall or bulletin board. I still can’t believe people like to read what I write or that I get paid for it. Even funnier, at the smaller paper reporters have to take their own pictures. I’m neither a school trained journalist or photographer, but I get paid to do both.
While my sister and cousin both want to be acclaimed authors, I’m the only one in the family that has been published. Writing for the newspaper is kind of therapeutic for me.
I once thought I might like to write a book, but until I joined this site did it become more of a reality than a dream. My bucket list item is to have a book written by me on my bookshelf. And with all of your help it’ll happen this year.
I know I’m never going to record a hit song, win an Oscar, or paint a masterpiece (I admire people with those talents.) But getting a book published is doable.
I’ll never have a statue of me in the park, but I can leave behind items written by me for future generations. That’s as close to immortal any of us can get.
That’s why I write.
Why I write? contest entry
Why I write is a good question. I usually tell people I have the face for radio and the voice for television, so I write.
I hated writing in high school, it seemed tedious to me. My sister, on the other hand always aspired to be an author and was always writing something.
One thing was I liked to read. Louis L’amour was one of my favorites. When you read his author page he said when he wrote about a stream there was a stream there and the water was good to drink.
What I liked about reading was you could take a trip and never leave the farm. One time during a study hall in February I was reading Battle Cry by Leon Uris. Uris was so descriptive talking about the Marines on Guadalcanal, when I read about the mosquitos and flies I was swatting at them. Uris had taken me there.
Since I never planned on going to college I didn’t take typing. I still type with only one finger, hunt and peck style.
It wasn’t until I made sergeant in the Army was my talent, and I use that word loosely, for writing discovered.
We had to write monthly counseling statements for each of our subordinates. My counseling statements always got high marks from my platoon sergeant. He started calling me a “wordsmith.”
Since I was the platoon wordsmith I was tasked with writing awards for soldiers. My awards were so well written they were always approved and I only had one downgraded in ten years. I started taking night courses and some of my professors praised my work and encouraged me to keep at it. That’s something none of my high school teachers ever did.
After I got out of the Army I attended Slippery Rock University to get a teaching certificate in history. We were required to take at least two intensive writing courses, I took nine.
I found that I have an ability to write a research paper fairly quickly, but I am also a procrastinator. My wife Anna would get the syllabus for a class and start immediately doing the research. She would spend the whole semester working on the paper.
Me, on the other hand, would let it slide until the Friday before it was due. Anna was jealous because I was turning in first drafts and getting “A”s while she would pull a “B” for a whole semester’s work.
After college I didn’t get a teaching job right away.
I would read our local newspaper and think to myself, “I can do better than this.” I actually took it as a challenge to prove that I better than the reporters they already had.
I answered an ad for a reporter position. The editor asked me to sit down and write about something that was breaking news. I did in about 10 minutes and was hired on the spot.
I became the weekend reporter, which I thought was pretty cool. I was attending events and writing what I saw. Most of the time they’re happy you’re there and nine times out of ten they’ll feed you. Tell me a better gig than that.
I applied to a bigger paper after a couple of years. I brought in a Monday morning paper for my clips. I had three articles on the front page, an article on page two, a column I had written, and I had an article on the sports page.
He was impressed, I told him I’d done everything at the paper but draw a comic strip, but I said, if you’re in the market for The Adventures of Stick Figure Man, then I’m your guy.”
I went back to the smaller paper about three years ago. I took over the weekend gig again and I help sports out by covering football, wrestling, and baseball.
I get a thrill when I walk in somewhere and they have an article by me hung up on the wall or bulletin board. I still can’t believe people like to read what I write or that I get paid for it. Even funnier, at the smaller paper reporters have to take their own pictures. I’m neither a school trained journalist or photographer, but I get paid to do both.
While my sister and cousin both want to be acclaimed authors, I’m the only one in the family that has been published. Writing for the newspaper is kind of therapeutic for me.
I once thought I might like to write a book, but until I joined this site did it become more of a reality than a dream. My bucket list item is to have a book written by me on my bookshelf. And with all of your help it’ll happen this year.
I know I’m never going to record a hit song, win an Oscar, or paint a masterpiece (I admire people with those talents.) But getting a book published is doable.
I’ll never have a statue of me in the park, but I can leave behind items written by me for future generations. That’s as close to immortal any of us can get.
That’s why I write.
I hated writing in high school, it seemed tedious to me. My sister, on the other hand always aspired to be an author and was always writing something.
One thing was I liked to read. Louis L’amour was one of my favorites. When you read his author page he said when he wrote about a stream there was a stream there and the water was good to drink.
What I liked about reading was you could take a trip and never leave the farm. One time during a study hall in February I was reading Battle Cry by Leon Uris. Uris was so descriptive talking about the Marines on Guadalcanal, when I read about the mosquitos and flies I was swatting at them. Uris had taken me there.
Since I never planned on going to college I didn’t take typing. I still type with only one finger, hunt and peck style.
It wasn’t until I made sergeant in the Army was my talent, and I use that word loosely, for writing discovered.
We had to write monthly counseling statements for each of our subordinates. My counseling statements always got high marks from my platoon sergeant. He started calling me a “wordsmith.”
Since I was the platoon wordsmith I was tasked with writing awards for soldiers. My awards were so well written they were always approved and I only had one downgraded in ten years. I started taking night courses and some of my professors praised my work and encouraged me to keep at it. That’s something none of my high school teachers ever did.
After I got out of the Army I attended Slippery Rock University to get a teaching certificate in history. We were required to take at least two intensive writing courses, I took nine.
I found that I have an ability to write a research paper fairly quickly, but I am also a procrastinator. My wife Anna would get the syllabus for a class and start immediately doing the research. She would spend the whole semester working on the paper.
Me, on the other hand, would let it slide until the Friday before it was due. Anna was jealous because I was turning in first drafts and getting “A”s while she would pull a “B” for a whole semester’s work.
After college I didn’t get a teaching job right away.
I would read our local newspaper and think to myself, “I can do better than this.” I actually took it as a challenge to prove that I better than the reporters they already had.
I answered an ad for a reporter position. The editor asked me to sit down and write about something that was breaking news. I did in about 10 minutes and was hired on the spot.
I became the weekend reporter, which I thought was pretty cool. I was attending events and writing what I saw. Most of the time they’re happy you’re there and nine times out of ten they’ll feed you. Tell me a better gig than that.
I applied to a bigger paper after a couple of years. I brought in a Monday morning paper for my clips. I had three articles on the front page, an article on page two, a column I had written, and I had an article on the sports page.
He was impressed, I told him I’d done everything at the paper but draw a comic strip, but I said, if you’re in the market for The Adventures of Stick Figure Man, then I’m your guy.”
I went back to the smaller paper about three years ago. I took over the weekend gig again and I help sports out by covering football, wrestling, and baseball.
I get a thrill when I walk in somewhere and they have an article by me hung up on the wall or bulletin board. I still can’t believe people like to read what I write or that I get paid for it. Even funnier, at the smaller paper reporters have to take their own pictures. I’m neither a school trained journalist or photographer, but I get paid to do both.
While my sister and cousin both want to be acclaimed authors, I’m the only one in the family that has been published. Writing for the newspaper is kind of therapeutic for me.
I once thought I might like to write a book, but until I joined this site did it become more of a reality than a dream. My bucket list item is to have a book written by me on my bookshelf. And with all of your help it’ll happen this year.
I know I’m never going to record a hit song, win an Oscar, or paint a masterpiece (I admire people with those talents.) But getting a book published is doable.
I’ll never have a statue of me in the park, but I can leave behind items written by me for future generations. That’s as close to immortal any of us can get.
That’s why I write.
 Recognized |
Here it is, the unvarnished truth as to why I write.
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