The Stealth Writer

It caught my attention when my junior college English professor read aloud my experience attending The Eagles/Linda Ronstadt concert at Anaheim Stadium in 1975.

“Gee—maybe people actually will read my stuff,” I mused after the initial classroom self consciousness faded.

Whether it’s music, sports, politics, family, or religion, I’m wording for whoever is reading. In that sense, writing is like breathing: essential yet natural.