Posts Tagged ‘creative writing’

Psst. . .


I’ve got a secret.

Promise not to tell? (more…)


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reaching upward
pruning shears in hand
I straddle the ladder
feet on the top rungs
head in the bare-branched treetop

my breath draws clouds
and the low golden sunlight
melts the dew into mist

I look up
as black rags fly past
congregate in the dark spruces
and caw bloody murder

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Bad diarist! No biscuit!

Back during The Event, I once again started a journal. I’ve kept a journal, off and on, for most of my life (though it’s definitely been more off than on). Like many diarists, I pick up my journal in times of strife and pain, writing each day (or more often) to rant, moan, analyze, introspect, and claw my way back toward something that resembles sanity. As the drama subsides, however, my journalistic fervor wanes in response; I am simply not compelled to catalogue the minutiae of my days.

And that is the point at which I begin to feel a sense of failure. (more…)

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our lives

are stories


with water

on a sun-baked stone




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I’d heard of them long before I saw one in the wild. Rare, elusive, they were things of power and legend. Sure, I saw them in movies, but I knew those were fakes; we all did.

The C-note. The Benjamin. One hundred smackeroos.

I was nine years old when I saw my first one.

We were at Tiburon Tommie’s, the Chinese restaurant of my youth, a place where the drinks menu was long and fixed, and the food menu was short and subject to change. (more…)

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Two weeks ago, I tried an experiment.

As some of you know, in addition to this blog I have a Facebook page for my writing, which feeds through to my Twitter account. (I don’t like Twitter, but I’m not convinced it’s useless.) Posts here also go to my LinkedIn profile, to Google+, and to Tumblr.

I don’t have too many readers here—hundreds, but not thousands—and membership on my Facebook page is . . . modest, if you catch my drift . . . but I figured that this situation was the perfect foundation for a small experiment.

In short, I ran an ad. (more…)

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Going back over early notes for this novel, I realized that this project has been rattling around in my head for over a decade.

The first outline I wrote up has a note on the top: Tabled Jan 2004.

Initially, this was very depressing. (more…)

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