I receive a lot of mail in the form of emails, letters, private messages, texts, Morse code, etc. It is impossible to answer all these messages, so I compiled some commonly asked questions:

Q: Hi! I am an angry Baptist/Pentecostal/Presbyterian/Methodist/evangelical/fundamentalist/fringe-group-religious-person-with-rigid-object-stuck-in-well-known-orifice-of-my-body, and you need to know that you’re way off base with all your talk about lovey-dovey stuff. There’s only one way to heaven, pal, and if you don’t proclaim the message exactly as I say you should, both the Holy Word and my pastors say you are going to the non-heavenly place when you die.

A: Thanks for your comment. I’ll see you there.

Q: This world is a mess, why don’t you ever address the political upheavals of our society? It seems irresponsible to not cultivate awareness especially in light of what’s going on in the news. You’re a coward. Why are you pretending that humanity is one great big happy family, and everything is hunky dory? This isn’t helping our country.

A: I think someone needs a nap.

Q: No, I’m serious. Don’t gloss over the question with your glib, sophomoric attempt at ill-timed humor. Don’t you see what’s going on on this country?

A: This country needs more love. Not more opinions from keyboard warriors.

Q: Hi. I just want to know: Is Sean Dietrich a real person, or just a secret team of a bunch of wannabe writers pretending to be one guy?

A: We aren’t wannabes. We’re never-weres. Big difference.

Q: Ginger or Mary Ann?

A: Lucille Ball.

Q: Come on. That’s not fair. Please comment on this age-old debate.

A: It’s not a debate. Not really. Dawn Wells, who played Mary Ann on “Gilligan’s Island,” former Miss Nevada 1960, received more fan mail than Tina Louise (Ginger) and nearly every other actor at CBS Studios combined.

Even after Wells’ heyday she still received some 5,000 fan letters per week from hormone crazed post-pubescent boys, most of whom were offering to bear her children. Not that I would know.

Q: You write a lot about dogs, but why don’t you ever write about cats? Don’t you like cats?

A: As I type this, I am currently on my porch surrounded by six neighborhood cats. Two are sleeping near my feet. One is beside me, communicating telepathically with her giant, yellow, frightening, apathetic eyes.

Q: So why don’t you ever write about cats?

A: I just did.

Q: I am a writer, trying to establish a daily writing routine, I was wondering how often you write? Do you write every day?

A: We do. Yes.

Q: I received a direct message from you, asking me to contact you. Is this legit?

A: No.

Q: But you were so friendly in your message, and this social media profile had your picture and everything.

A: Do respond. Do not engage. And do not give money. I have friends who have been taken for a lot of money because of predation like this. One woman lost almost all she had in hopes of being nice to one of these scam artists. So please be careful.

Q: I am a Presbyterian minister/schoolteacher/college student/book club facilitator/VFW bartender, and I would like to use one of your writings for my sermon/classroom/essay/Bible study/karaoke night/women’s mud-wrestling championship. How do I go about getting permission, making sure to give you full credit for your intellectual property because I don’t want to infringe on your copyrighted mater—

A: SLAP!

Q: Did you just slap me?

A: Yes, but only in the literary sense.

Q: But… Why?

A: Because people today are obsessed with ownership, copyrights and milking every nanoparticle of credit out of each little thing they do. It’s nauseating. This fixation on receiving credit is the equivalent of applauding for yourself after successfully using the toilet.

Q: Can you illustrate what you mean with an extremely long and irrelevant example?

A: Last week I went to a church and the lyrics to “Amazing Grace” were copyrighted, with the little copyright symbol at the bottom and everything.

Q: But “Amazing Grace” was written in 1779.

A: Yes, but in this version the original lyrics had been slightly altered, which makes this version “intellectual property,” which means this song is copyrighted, which means you are not allowed to sing “Amazing Grace” in public without paying fees to obtain permission, or else you will end up with the top bunk in Leavenworth.

Q: How does this answer my original question?

A: What I’m saying is that I don’t need credit for these words if you choose to share them with someone. Go ahead. Clip them out of the newspaper, or print them off your computer screen. Everything I have written belongs to you. This is the Internet, you own it as much as I do.

Q: But how can you say that? What if someone steals your material and gets filthy rich from YOUR words?

A: I say God bless them. It never worked for me.

Q: Duke’s or Hellman’s?

A: I wouldn’t give Hellman’s to a golden retriever.

Q: You always write about Morgan Love, how has she been. Has there been any progress on her condition?

A: Today, she texted me pictures of her playing pickle ball with her friends, and eating one quarter of a waffle from Waffle House, which represents some of the first solid food that has passed her lips in, literally, years . She is not out of the woods yet, but I can honestly say this: prayer works.

Q: Why don’t you write about certain people in your life more often?

A: Privacy. In an age of social media, where everything is published online, last year I began to understand how important it is for my friends and family to have a say in what is published about them.

This is especially true with children in my life. I see too many parents constantly posting about their own kids, trying so desperately to make their kids into viral sensations, instead of letting their children live their lives. So I have taken a conscious step back from contributing to this problem.

Q: Do you have any advice for me, I am burying a loved one this week. The funeral is tomorrow. And I don’t know who to talk to.

A: I have no advice. Because most advice is worthless. Besides, you’re getting plenty of advice from the know-it-alls in your life right now. Funerals bring out the advice-giver in everyone.

But I don’t think you don’t need advice right now. What you need is love. Physical affection. Phone calls. Face-to-face conversations. Texts from friends. Hugs from children. Kisses from family members. Someone to put their arm around you, someone to cook for you, someone who listens more than they talk. Real, messy, true love.

In my short, little, unremarkable life, I have discovered what I need the most is love. Love is the most deficient substance on this earth, and the only item you can take with you when you leave here. Which is why I hope you know I love you. Whoever you are.

Ⓒ 2026 Your Name Goes Here, all rights reserved.