P.O. Box 300751
					Fern Park, FL  32730-0751
					New Year's 1993

Dear beloved family and cherished friends,

	Yes, folks; believe it or not, another year has gone by and 
once again we get depressed thinking we have not fully lived up 
to our expectations.  But be not so glum; although we may not have 
made as much progress as we would have liked to this year, know 
that we all fell short; and that unites us in this thing we call the 
human experience.  And those fraternal bonds should be enough to 
bring us joy.
	The ground that I lost this year, I hope to regain soon.  Last 
December, you may recall, I was pursuing an MA in English at the 
University of Central Florida.  Well, when it came time to register 
for Spring classes, budget cuts combined with red tape wouldn't let 
me into the courses I needed, so I took some undergraduate classes 
at Seminole Community College in the Spring term.  When more 
budget cuts removed the entire English department for the summer 
at UCF, I gave up and attempted to find a full-time job.
	When they tell you the economy and unemployment is bad, 
you better damn-well believe it.  I thought my college degree, 
experience editing a newspaper, an excellent portfolio, and references 
like a prestigious college president would help land me a good job 
relatively quickly.  No such luck; I spent the entire summer in a 
wild search for the illusive position.  I tried photography studios,
dark rooms, photo labs, business offices, newspapers, printing shops, 
tourist attractions.  Nothing.  For every open position, there must 
have been 50 applicants, and many had more experience than I.  And 
it was experience, not quality or dedication, that employers were 
looking for.
	I gave up the futile job search in August and decided to try 
a real graduate program again.  I took a few more prerequisite classes 
at SCC in the fall, and narrowed down a list of 600 possible English MA 
programs to four schools that I am about to apply to for entrance next 
fall.  They are Valdosta State (GA), Clemson (SC), Miami (OH), and 
Drew (NJ).  With a bit of luck, I'll be at one of these schools next 
August.
	In the meantime, my classes kept me busy.  I've had two 
literature classes this year which were quite fascinating.  Some of my 
best papers were on Huckleberry Finn, The Great Gastby, "The 
Pardoner's Tale" from The Canterbury Tales, "Othello," and one 
comparing the poems of William Carlos Williams to Gwendolyn Brooks, 
whom I actually got to meet when she visited SCC.
	Another good class I took was in the art of photography.  I 
went on shoots to several unusual places such as St. Augustine, rural 
towns, a deserted beach, a farmer's market, the top of the tallest 
skyscraper in Orlando, and the private home of a college professor.  
One of my pictures was hailed as the best in the class.
	But by far, my most exciting course was playwriting.  My final 
project was a one-act play called "Sins of the Fathers."  It is about two 
fictional characters who suddenly appear on a stage, discuss the "point" 
of theatre, their own history and politics (with an emphasis on the 
Vietnam War), and finally discover what the ironic connection is 
between them.  I got an A on the project, but production doesn't seem 
likely.  I've approached several Florida theatre groups, but nothing 
has proven fruitful.  (By the way, "Sins..." is copyrighted with the 
Library of Congress in Washington DC.)
	I've done some other writing in 1992, including seven short 
stories.  "Like a Cancer Grows" is about a college professor whose lies 
and loose behavior finally catch up with him.  My most comic piece, 
"Die, Asshole, Die" is about a meek man and wife who try to kill a 
spider and, I hope, points out the senseless brutality of such a 
common act.  A take-off on a famous Thurber story, "The Secret 
Life of Johnathan Chides" ridicules my own ambitions.  "Uncovered 
within his Tent" is based on a true story about a girl getting too 
drunk.  Set in the 1960s, "Academic Integrity" examines the moral 
dilemma faced by a first-year teacher who must decide if she should 
pass a bad student so he can avoid the draft.  "I Slept with Nancy 
Kalerio" portrays a middle-aged man who has done nothing with 
his life except dwell on one night when he was in high school and 
had sex with a classmate who later went on to become a famous 
movie star.  And "The Art of Life" is the first story in what I hope 
will eventually become the long saga of the fictional Cavalcade 
College.
	Most of my stories have been severely criticized, both by 
close friends and relatives as well as classmates in my creative 
writing course.  It is the latter which bothers me most.  These aspiring 
writers say most of my stories don't conform to the precise dimensions 
of the "short story" as the genre is defined by editors and publishers.  
They don't like my casual style and socially critical themes, and 
would often tell me there is no market for my writing.  They believe 
that writing that will not sell is not worth writing.  These narrow 
attitudes led me to issue the following new policy:

	Persons attempting to define the genre of my works 
	will be fined.  Persons attempting to formalize my 
	style will be prosecuted.  Persons attempting to 
	popularize my themes will be ostracized.  Persons 
	attempting to determine a market for any of my 
	works will be shot on sight.

	This year, I've really gotten into poetry.  Since January, I have 
written almost three dozen poems; they mostly deal with subjects like 
sex, political and social criticism, death, love, and lost dreams.  One 
poem called "Meandering in America" was published in Brushing, the 
literary magazine of my alma mater, Rollins College; and one called 
"Crossing America" was printed in the Orlando Spectator, the 
alternative newspaper that I still work for.
	The Spectator has been pretty good to me this year.  I've 
become their photography editor and still write two columns:  my 
video review of foreign and alternative films, and my "Content of 
Character" political opinion column.  My most controversial piece 
was a criticism of the electoral process which came out in March, 
just after the Florida primary; but my best-written and most 
researched column was about business ethics--a new trend being 
seen in such companies as Ben & Jerry's and the local Eco-Store.  
Sometimes, working for the Spectator  is a lot of fun; for example, 
the staff volunteered to answer phones for the local PBS station's 
August pledge drive, so I got to be on TV and see up close how a 
real television studio works.
	I've done a few other interesting things in 1992, including 
attend a political rally for presidential candidate Jerry Brown, heard 
legendary poet Allen Ginsberg, and attended an open house at NASA 
for families of Kennedy Space Center workers (of whom one is a good 
friend).  I traveled north twice:  once for a very quick weekend in 
March to see a dear family friend who was dying of cancer--a month 
later she was dead.  And then in May, I went to Vermont for my 
sister's graduation from Middlebury College.  In October, I was 
almost offered a job in Washington with a local politician running 
for Congress, but he lost the election in November.
	And you'll be happy to know my unusual case of gout has 
greatly improved.  I've only had a few attacks this year, and when 
they did occur, a new drug helped immensely.  My doctor discovered 
that one of my legs is a quarter inch shorter than the other (hey, 
I'm a mutant), and since he gave me a heel to wear to correct the 
situation, there have been no major attacks.  Who knows if the gout 
wasn't related?
	As for the future?  Well, I'm working on a short story right 
now I tentatively call "The Fashion Photographer," about image vs. 
substance, which I expect to finish up in early January. In the Spring, 
I'll only be taking one class (19th & 20th Century British Literature), 
so I'll be doing some traveling during my free time.  I hope I'll get to 
see as many of you as possible before I start graduate school in 
August.  Should I be rejected again from these schools, rest assured 
I'll find something productive to do.
	I hope all is well with each of you, and that 1993 finds us 
all more prosperous, productive, and peaceful.  I'd like to hear from 
you--tell me your deeds, your dreams, your desires, and your disasters.  
They're what make us human.  Remember the words of Robert Louis 
Stevenson:  "Here lies one who meant well, tried a little, failed much
--surely that may be the epitaph of he who need not be ashamed."
	Let's make 1993 a year of human joy for us all.

				Peace on Earth,

				Jonathan Chisdes
				(407) 260-1029