About  Lauren  D.  Ogle "Bud"

   Lauren Ogle was my father in law, he constantly talked about his stories and was always ready to take you down to his little writing room in the basement to show you his next story. For years he would sit in front of an old type writer pounding keys as his short story would come to life, under the name Lauren D. Ogle. After being asked by a publisher he was male or female, with the name Lauren, his thoughts were, "Do my readers think I'm a female?" This is when his writing name changed to "Bud, I'm a man!"

In the early 2000s I found an old Brother word processor in a garage sale, I had to pick it up for him. It was in great shape and came with an original manual, that Bud studied until he had the word processor singing. With a couple packs of floppy disks he was filling them with his stories. Bud has had his short stories published in magazines, newspapers and often in our local senior prospective paper.

Bud Ogle at the age of 91 passed away in 2011 from a broken heart after loosing his wife Lea 10 days earlier. His daughter Laurie and I have ALL of his stories on disk and in a large file cabinet, now it is time to share. So here is Buds sense of humor and a true prospective of the older generation. I find his stories in the same way as listening to my grandfather talking about his past.

Have fun reading, I have not changed one word, it's all Bud.......

   Let’s get started with how Bud felt about writing. He did make a few dollars to help put his kids through college, but we believe mostly for the fun of it.

“There is always a story to be told.”

Writing for fun and maybe profit

by L d. ogle Bush league writer -- that's me.

I know I will never get rich at writing but I never had so much fun doing anything.

For me, writing is a break-even proposition financially. But I don't imagine a more worth-while hobby.

Writing brings with it buckets of prestige, praise and no end of status. Friends, relatives and even strangers look at you in a different   light and a full-blown ham like me eats it up like pie.

Writing doesn't do much for the stomach, but It can fatten the ego.

Writing is very strange once you get into it.

The things that you thought were going to be hard are easy and some of the things you thought were going to be easy are the most difficult.

For example, a myth that most people believe is that you must have been a whiz at English and grammar to write. It's a false notion.

Most people, including me do not understand Shakespearian English and wouldn't bother to read such stuff.

They like to read about people like them-selves -- people who talk and write like they do.

Another example is the false belief that you must be an expert typist. If miner readers could see my manuscripts before a copy editor puts them into order, they would know that I'm a ham -handed. two-fingered typist.

One would think, too, that writers' clubs are exclusive high-toned groups that wouldn't stoop to or speak to lowly non-published writers.

On the contrary, I belong to a club that insists you show some rejection slips after you belong for a while. The writing field is so big that there ls room for almost anyone. And the variation of subjects is big enough that you can write about anything you wish.

You want more encouragement? You can write anywhere in the world where there is space enough to set down your typewriter.

  You can set your own hours -- late at night. early in the morning or whatever. You can even write in your head whilst you are doing some menial chore that doesn't require all of your concentration. All it takes physically is 2 fingers and an active imagination.

Now to get down to the bad parts.

First you must get something that will interest the readers and also an editor, most editors are egotistical morons.

Of course, this is sour sour-grapes from a rejected writer. But sometimes you can write something that is classical and some dumb editor will fire it back at you with an almost insulting rejection slip.

A month later you'll send him a watered-down hokey piece of quick writing that you dashed off just to meet your quota and he will rave over it as if it were by poppy and he will rave over it as if it were by Pappa Hemmingway.

Well maybe there are some good editors (just in case some of the others are reading this column), but a rejected writer gets to hate most of them easily.

Then there are writer's blocks -- just like batter's slump. It sometimes seems that no matter what you do, you just cannot come up with anything that looks good to you, no matter how hard you try.

Very frustrating and maddening, but there isn't much you can do till it passes. You can go get drunk -- some writers do this. Some just go away and forget writing for a while.

The best thing to do is to spill a whole batch of words on a page. At least you will get some typing practice until the tired old brain comes up with something.

Perhaps I should warn beginning writers that they must be egotistical, conceited hams. There ls no way to write unless you have a barge load of confidence.

Here is where a lot of beginning. writers fail. They contract mailbox fever. They get their courage up. They write up beautiful articles and then are afraid of being made fun of.

So, they weaken when it comes time to mall it.

A writer must just convince himself he's the greatest thing since O. Henry, and go and find a hungry looking mailbox and fire it off.

Then don't waste any time waiting for the dull-minded editor's   rejection slip. Apply the seat of your trousers to a chair. Put your brain into high gear and overdrive. Resume writing.

You have my best wishes. The world needs some good writers. One need only read some of the trash that is put out to realize this.