"It was late," I started. "But I got my first article written and submitted about ten o'clock last night. I had to help the get the kids to their after school activities, then with dinner and their homework, and finally to bed." I had not yet checked to see if my article passed submission, and I was making excuses' just in case. I did not feel comfortable in this role.

"Ten o'clock," Dad repeated. "That's not too late."

I sensed hesitancy in his voice, and I probed, "You did get your article in, didn't you?"

"Well, I worked on it all day," he started. "I totally appreciate the process of putting an article out there. It reminds me of painting."

I sensed that the fragile bird had a broke wing and I couldn't resist, "You did submit an article didn't you?" "No. It is not quite ready. When it is perfect, I will submit it."

Dad is a bit of an artist. He has always appreciated the process of his art as much as the finished product. I could tell that he was viewing this contest as an opportunity to enjoy another process.

"Dad," I said with a bit of theatrical emphasis. "Thirty articles in thirty days is not going to be easy. You have to get your product out there, let the audience, in this case the submission people, tell you if it is acceptable and correct it from there."

That is basically my business philosophy. When the audience, or customer, wants a new product give it to them. You need to spend an appropriate amount of time preparing, but you have to work within the confines of your budget. In this case, time, thirty days, is your budgetary limit. Produce the product, and if it meets the quality standards, in this case submission requirements be happy with it. The critic will always let you adjust your product if it is not perfect the first time. In inconsequential cases, like this, they will be forgiving.

"That's your philosophy," Dad responded. "I feel that I have to believe I put my best work out before I can deliver it. It may take a little longer, but I feel that if I take the extra time and get it right the first time, I won’t have to write it again."

"Cute pun, Dad."

"I thought you'd like it."

Day one of the 30 in 30 contest, and I have two articles submitted. Dad has yet to release his first. Of course our record of published articles is the same, zero.