September 28, 1930

The summer is over and once again I am back at the old grind [teaching]. As I look back at my diary it is really amusing to see the change in thought from the idealism of winter to the practicality of coming spring and summer a transition from the world of Thoreau and Emerson to the factual matter of making money. Now I have before me several months of opportunity if I wish the opportunity of writing and dreaming and it looks good.

Two of my stories came out in the magazines this month and if nothing else it gave me confidence. To tell the truth it has been a long time between appearances but the fact remains that I can still do something with my pen. Confessions of a Duck Hunter written on such short notice, nine hours all together has show me that under stress, I can really do something worth while. Queer but I must have some incentive to do work consistently.

Sent my story "Logs on the Quetico" in to Thomas Uzzell [an agent]. It will be interesting to see how it fares. I am hoping against hope that his report will be favorable. If it isn't it will hurt but it will not in the least dampen my ardor. I am used by now to rebuffs but they only strengthen my resolve. Chances are his report will be rather detrimental than anything else. He will make me revise it and inject more human interest, probably increase the suspence and make the stakes higher. That I can do and don't forget cutting out the description. That will undoubtedly come.

If nothing is doing on this story, I will next submit "The Gentle Wild One." When I think of the time and effort invested there, I can ill afford to let it lie and rot. There is some really good work in that story and with the proper revising should amount to something. I plan on this winter at least finding out something tangible in regard to my ability. I am through guessing and wondering. It has come to a showdown. I will determine whether or not I have any talent and whether or not it is worth while continuing. If it is I will keep on if it isn't I think I will let it go if I can. If I can is good. I know from past experience that it will be impossible.

Yesterday paddling down Low Lake, I had a vision of perfect peace - what was it - to be alone in the trappers cabin with my typewriter and nothing to do except write, read and shoot an occasional duck. To do that for a month would be soothing to say the least. Think of having enough time time to burn in which to write and think. All one needs to do in order to write well is to have time to put on something. It is hardest to start a story for me but I love to revise and put the finishing touches to an article. There is a pleasure of putting the final artistry to anything and finishing off a story gives me just that. Imagine sitting in that cabin all alone with something to polish up. Coloring leaves outside the wonderful air peace and quiet and the satisfaction of work well done. Some day I will do just that. If the Business ever makes it possible, I will go off for a month or so every fall.