They gave their tomorrows for our today.
Author: darin
Apple and My Writing Life
The noted German pastor and theologian Helmut Thielicke once told his students, “Sell all [the books] that you have … and buy Spurgeon.” Great advice!
Certain things are essential to my writing life. My Apple products, are chief among them.
You, there! Want to be a writer? Sell all you have … and buy a Mac.
(The joke of course being you pretty much have to sell all you own to buy Mac. Yikes. It’s true!)
I’ve written on my love for my MacBook Air before. From my discovery of this fine machine (h.t. Michael Hyatt) to my eventual replacement of it–another of the same model, but like the Six Million Dollar Man, better, stronger and faster … the love continues!

Along the way, I picked up an iPad Air. I’ve gotten to where it’s my travel companion. Reading, writing, corresponding. Boom! That quick, easy and portable. Got a cool keyboard for it. It’s my mini-Mac.
For you professional writers, all my accounting, billing, communication and client files are accessible to me across all my devices.
I’ve been an iPhone user since the very first one came out. Haters gonna hate. I hear you Samsung folks out there. Glad you’re happy. But me? I’m giddy-happy! All my Apple devices are synced up, and screaming along. My content. Everywhere. All the time.
By the way, upgraded to an iPhone 8-plus yesterday. Loving this phone even more than the 6S it replaced. I’ll be good for a while. You know, until … better, stronger, faster.
Okay, so I suppose I’ll put down my Apple flavored kool-aid and suggest, yes, your choice of devices can be yours. Choose your manufacturer. Just make sure yours works best for you.
And give thanks–like me–because when it works for you, you’re a happy writer! I’m living proof.
Wisdom for Writers
Like your bedroom, your writing room should be private, a place where you go to dream. Your schedule — in at about the same time every day, out when your thousand words are on paper or disk — exists in order to habituate yourself, to make yourself ready to dream just as you make yourself ready to sleep by going to bed at roughly the same time each night and following the same ritual as you go. –Stephen King
Influential III
Another blast from my musical past. Continuing this series on the most influential albums I listened to growing up (in no particular order), here’s …
Post three of ten: Goodbye Yellow Brick Road by Elton John
It’s always best to start at the beginning – and all you do is follow the Yellow Brick Road. –Glinda, the Good Witch of the North, The Wizard of Oz
A vivid childhood memory I’ll share with you, and honestly I shiver a little even as I write this–I was terrified of the Wicked Witch of the West. Her and her creepy crooked fingers, green skin, and those flying monkeys! I had nightmares about her after seeing the Wizard of Oz.
If you could only imagine my hesitance when my first girlfriend–I was five, she was six, so … an older woman–invited me into her bedroom to listen to a rock-n-roll album entitled Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. 
I remember looking at the cover. It was a man in a pink jacket–back in a day when men didn’t wear pink jackets. And he was stepping out on to a Yellow Brick Road wearing shoes … I thought my sister had a pair just like those, actually. I’ll admit it, I was confused.
Then we listened. I’ll tell you what, this dude was a crazy piano player! I’d never heard anything like it.
It was a double album. You know that whole thing about little girls not having little boys in their bedrooms? We didn’t get to the end of the first record of the double album before Katherine’s mom protested. I was shown the Yellow Brick Road … home.
But me and Katherine were mischievous. We did wild and crazy things our parents never knew about. Like brushing her family’s Pug dog’s teeth … with Katherine’s little sister Melinda’s toothbrush. And putting masking tape on her cat Marvella’s paws and watching her dance. I’m telling you, you cannot possibly have any more fun at five and six years old!
Of course, every chance we had over the next several days, whenever her mom was otherwise occupied, we were back at it–Elton was spinning on her little record player.
That double album contains some real gems. And story–every tune tells a story! I wasn’t aware of it then, but I’ve since learned about the partnership of Elton John and Bernie Taupin–it was John’s musicianship and Taupin’s storytelling lyrics that I fell in love with.
I recommend the whole double album, not a bad tune on it really. But for the writing side, the storytelling side, let me give you just one–Saturday Night’s Alright for Fighting. Taupin paints a picture. John’s vocal takes you there–
[Verse 1]
It’s getting late, have you seen my mates?
Ma, tell me when the boys get here
It’s seven o’clock and I want to rock
Want to get a belly full of beer
My old man’s drunker than a barrel full of monkeys
And my old lady, she don’t care
My sister looks cute in her braces and boots
A handful of grease in her hair
[Chorus]
Don’t give us none of your aggravation
We had it with your discipline
Saturday night’s alright for fighting
Get a little action in
Get about as oiled as a diesel train
Going to set this dance alight
Saturday night’s the night I like
Saturday night’s alright, alright, alright
[Verse 2]
Well, they’re packed pretty tight in here tonight
I’m looking for a dolly who’ll see me right
I may use a little muscle to get what I need
I may sink a little drink and shout out “she’s with me!”
A couple of the sounds that I really like
Are the sounds of a switchblade and a motorbike
I’m a juvenile product of the working class
Whose best friend floats at the bottom of a glass
Unfortunately, my romance with Katherine ended just a few months later. It was like Elton John shared in another song: “she went and left me for some foreign guy” … or at least that’s how my five-year-old self understood her family’s move to St. Augustine.
But the memories remain. And the influence of these songwriters/musicians is indelibly written on my literary life.
FMM
Five Minute Memoir quip #214
I’m quite certain I could never work for a living. I look back upon 21 years of pastoral ministry and realize I was simply living out and sharing my faith-journey with others. Sermons, visitation, teaching, care—those were just things I loved to do. It wasn’t a job. I got paid to be me. Same thing with these last five years of writing. Putting words on a page is my greatest passion in life. The fact that people pay me to do what I love to do, amazes me every day I rise … and get to do it again. Those folks who hold down a 9-to-5, commute through traffic jams to an office in the city, hustle to meet a schedule, collect a wage or earn a salary, God bless you. I have all the respect in the world for you. I couldn’t do it. It’s the literary life for me.
