About five years ago I was sitting in my living room and thought of a little angel observing the goings on outside of heaven. Suddenly I found myself writing as fast as I could. I had no thought of publishing a book. All I could think of was writing the story that was unfolding in my head. I was just having fun and never expected it to go any further than that.

I was using a pen and paper. There is something very personal about it. I don't know why so few people do that anymore. Computers are wonderful things, and are great fun because you can make all kinds of mistakes and just wipe them away with the touch of a key. When you make a mistake with a pen, you live with it. It forces you to strive for perfection. Then there is also the feel of the pen in your hand. I think it is probably like an artist holding a paint brush. Every movement of your hand creates something.

Sometimes I think about the old writings that have shown up occaionally in the handwriting of some of the greatest writers ever known. It is truly a piece of the writer. That is becoming a thing of the past because there won't be many hand written manuscripts to be found from our generation. You just don't get the same feeling when you see something typed on a computer. And yet, here I am, typing away.

For me, it is the same as reading a printed book compared to downloading a book on the computer. I read a lot of articles on the computer, and that isn't going to stop, but there is just something special about holding a book in my hands. It adds another whole demention to reading.

I wish I had more time to write my manuscript with a pen. Maybe someday, but until then I will keep on typing. I still love Little Chrisamee, the angel I created, and she and I will continue to spend a lot of time together. She will be in the computer, and  me sitting in front of it.