I am not a collector of anything. There was a time when I was writing for over 50 magazines and newspapers, mostly monthlies, but some weeklies too. Over the decades, I spent a huge number of hours writing away in my office.
Sometimes I forgot what season I was in. Actually, that’s the last 30 years. Really. I would get up, work out, eat, and get to work. My day was work.
Of course, when I was teaching for 33 years before that, my days were get up, work out, teach, theatre and writing. I gave up my theatre career after 10 successful years. I was in about 50 plays. I can’t even remember all of the titles! I was the thin, good-looking, leading man. Now? Get me some overalls to fit my massive bulk.
There were years when my travel schedule matched my writing schedule too. I once had years where I spent 130 days in Las Vegas, along with side trips to Tunica, Atlantic City, and spots here and there. Maybe half the year on the road.
When I travelled, I only jotted down notes.
At home I wrote furiously; on the road I played games with the money I had hard earned. Oh, my wife’s (crowned the Beautiful AP) and my lives were full of adventure. And, dare I say this? Love. A good marriage is the best thing in the world.
But I am a writer. Have been since 4th grade. You might ask, “How did you become a writer?” I’m glad you asked.
I had a good friend, Pat Conway, and we decided to start a newspaper. Remember this was 4th grade. A newspaper? What the heck. It was actually Pat’s idea. I kind of went along with her for the ride.
She was a decent writer, even way back then. I wasn’t. But she was a great editor too and basically didn’t use any of my stuff.
In 5th grade we gave up the newspaper. But my teacher, Sister Patricia Michael decided I could be a writer based on some of the work I did for her.
I was always near failing out of Catholic school, which would have been a disgrace for my family, and I always thought of myself as dumb. I was seated in the back of the class where Sister put the dumb kids. I have fond memories of all the stupid skids in my classes – a rogue’s gallery. (The dumb kids were always boys by the way.)
“Francis,” she said to me one day. “You are going to be a writer. I am going to teach you.”
And she did. In addition to all the homework she gave (she was a meanie) I got separate writing assignments that she would give me advice about. One piece of advice was don’t end sentences with prepositions.
In elementary school (what would be junior high school or middle school today), I had one brother (we switched to the “bothers” in 6th grade) Jonathan who championed my writing. He also told me I could be an actor. He also championed his own freedom as I heard many years later that he left the brotherhood and ran away with a nun. Good for them.
And I had my coach, Brother Barnabus, who headed our undefeated team (55-0) when I was in 8th grade.
By the time I got to high school, I was no longer one of the dumb kids and I left that world behind. I had learned to write and my high school teachers (both priests and lay teachers) encouraged me to write articles and stories for the high school magazine and newspaper. In between sports, I did so.
(I went back to Sister Patricia Michael when I was in high school and told her what she had done for me. She cried.)
I now look back on some portions of my life and, yes I do, I salute myself. I did well. I’ve written 35 books, two plays, some television shows and over 6,000 articles. I’m still writing furiously and my typing is the best it’s ever been.
So, Sister Patricia Michael of the Sisters of Charity, I thank you. And Jonathan and Barnabas of the Franciscan brothers, I thank you fellows as well.
All the best in and out of the casinos.
Frank Scoblete’s books are available from Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble, Kindle, e-books, libraries, and bookstores.
This article is provided by the Frank Scoblete Network. Melissa A. Kaplan is the network's managing editor. If you would like to use this article on your website, please contact Casino City Press, the exclusive web syndication outlet for the Frank Scoblete Network. To contact Frank, please e-mail him at fscobe@optonline.net.