Back yonder, in the spring of 1947, I graduated De Leon High School with accumulated accomplishments known to charm the pushers of literature and grammatical skills, in the geographical area where the Methodist Church keeps vigil over the silent grave of the WPA weathered and dissolving brick building.

I walked away with a four-year scholastic scholarship, a diploma of graduation and a two-hundred and fifty word vocabulary. I had the world by the tail on a downhill pull.

I was also gifted in the Ready Writing movement of the DISD, and adept at cranking out 600-800 word swipes at life, at the rate of a release of a masterpiece of questionable quality in a quarter-hour.

In time, construction time dropped and I found homes for most, and the total bobbed around the muddy banks of the Leon and other major waterways of our native land. It is truly amazing how far a two-hundred, fifty word vocabulary will stretch and never actually rupture.

I’ve been interviewed many times by wanna-be writers, and most of the time I’m about half honest if the answer looked for is obvious to me.

One query tops out among the most usual to be asked, and it is:

“Where do your ideas come from and how do you organize the column to have a beginning, and middle and ending?” My standard response is simply that my subjects for dissertation seek me out and under the old rules I can know little relief until I have dealt the vexing snarl of info into some sort of conformity with rhyme and reason.

Until just lately the explanation was enough to satisfy me, and was not regarded as balderdash and poppycock by fledgling authors, but the normal concluding how has come under suspicion even by me.

It has ever been my contention that if you sleep on a problem — the snarl, and normal hair tangle, will eventually run out of resistance to natural forces and emerge suitable for common combing.

Welsir, I’m not as sure of the truth of that matter as I once was. I’m watching with great interest to see whether my cat-like ability will return to equilibrium as it once was.

Time will tell and you and I will both keep our eyes open to see how things go.

If you send an e-mail to chupp@charleschupp.com — it’ll get to me.

By Charles Chupp, Copyright ©2008 Charles Chupp