If you go back into the archives of this blog, you will find that I have discussed these topics at great length.

Eric

Frankly, as noted, a great deal has to do with how well one likes what one has to do. If it’s fun or intellectually challenging, the matter is easily handled. If it’s dull as ditchwater (like housework et al.), then it requires a great deal of self-discipline (and a few cups of tea or something stronger) to get the will to ‘carry on’. At least that’s how it is for me!

Thanks.

It’s sad though as Gregg was a West Pointer and therefore had intended a military career as opposed to those who found themselves as soldiers by virtue of circumstance and thus welcomed a return to their former more peaceful pursuits.

It’s all a matter of self-discipline.

Eric

Gregg never said.

The regimental surgeon of the 6th Ohio Cavalry claimed that Gregg’s nerves were shot. That may have been, but I believe it’s that Gregg had seen how Sheridan had trashed the careers of his friends and West Point classmates Averell and Torbert, and was unwilling to serve under Sheridan again. I think he resigned in order to avoid serving under Sheridan’s command again.

Eric

I’ve been asking him that for a while. Not to mention publisher, husband, speaker. etc. He is one disciplined dude!

Mike

You know, I remember Tolkien writing in The Hobbit that pleasant times can be written about in a few lines while dark, unpleasant and dangerous events require far more words with which to enlighten the reader. The sad thing is that most readers enjoy a few words of ‘good times’ in any book but much prefer combat, danger, controversy and scandal. That (apparently) is what sells books.

I have never done it, but a study of biographies would probably show more written about villains or at least controversial subjects than about saints unless it is someone of immense interest (like Lee or Grant) and even then, stories about Grant’s drinking and Lee’s failure at Gettysburg probably garner more interest than studies on tactics or recitations of a happy home life. It’s the nature of the beast, I suppose. As the kid in the Sunday school play said bitterly, ‘The snake has all the lines!’