Looking for a way to channel your inner Jack Kerouac? Or maybe you just feel like having a few drinks and people-watching in a café. Either way – this post is for you.
An Outlet Of One’s Own
Looking for that perfect place to pen your poem or story? What authors should look for in a coffee shop … apologies to Virginia Woolf for the title.
Sunday Morning Mashup
It’s Sunday. Time to jam.
“Bootstraps” a Finalist in Glimmer Train Fiction Contest
Slowly but surely, the writing gig is starting to bear fruit.
Bootstraps
“I made my way quietly out back and sat in Helga’s whitewashed porch swing, listening to the first faint sounds of big band music drift out of Helga’s open windows and into the cooling summer air. The darkness was moving in slow from the east, interrupted by the sparse waltz of the increasingly emboldened fireflies. The urgency with which they flared up stood in stark contrast to their measured fade back to black, like lit matchsticks being tossed in slow motion out into the purpling horizon, burning slowly down to dust.”
I Remember Me
“Our oscillation between / extremes leaves / scattershot footprints …”
Hello World!
Welcome to my blog! Drop by every week or so to read new stories, poems and thoughts on the writing process.
The Art of the Short Story
Stuck on your short story? This post might help you figure out a way forward.
The Contextual Importance of Eye Contact
“You see mother was always asking me about the place so I thought “it” was the important. But it’s not, the place isn’t, important but the context “is.” The sweat and the palm and the air-drowning goldfish can be in Boca Raton or Boise or Prague or even Yourtown, and maybe it is in Yourtown (you don’t know, but now you’re suspecting); it’s the context of it that’s mattering to the air-drowning goldfish whose eyes are deadening, deadening, dead.”