Category Archives: WRITING

Hah! I snort, after several minutes pass with pen still poised above this one short note.  You’re supposed to be a writer, I say, and yet the words are lost to my insistent grasp.  I finally scribble some useless, helpless … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Remember how "eloquently" I posted that bit about creativity returning via "swallowing the muse?"  Well, follow the metaphor out to its inevitable conclusion and you’ll see where I stand creatively the last few days.  I think the idea of trying … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Honestly, I don’t think that anything screams first semester creative writing class louder in a short story or poem than having fuck sprinkled liberally throughout for no damn good reason.  It is as if the college level course liberates and … Continue reading → Continue reading →

The more line I lay out, the more tightly I grip the roll of string that flies the kite of past.  It shrinks within the blank blue sky, hits a cloud and flies above it, changed somehow.  Tiny, tiny; but … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Getting hyper about a writing project that I’ve reincarnated to relieve and refocus the stress into a productive mode.  One thing I’ve learned about stress and the possible resulting depression is that it can leave you feeling lost and helpless … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Well I’m finally into it again, turning my back on the reality that I can’t manage to control anyway.  And in this story project, I truly mean that it must be controlled.  Back to Powerpoint planning, back to forking paths … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Damn.  Four o’clock in the morning.  Last revision in place in the magazine, ready to go.  Six full hours of sleep and listening to the steady drone of the rain, the occasional click of the coffee pot heating, cooling, reheating.  … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Had I watched tv I would have been asleep perhaps.  I did prepare most properly for bed some hours ago, and slid inside beside the one who somehow loves me.  But even he could not dispel the thinking grinding machinations … Continue reading → Continue reading →

I am trying, I really am, to leave behind or at least set down for a bit the baggage of the present woes to concentrate the stress and high emotion into something good, a story not of but from myself. … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Sometimes it takes a bit of rubbing shoulders with creativity to come home with the residue to write. Inspired by others–though I be intimidated by Marquez, my solitary source for quite a while now–I may have discovered paths to take … Continue reading → Continue reading →

Feeling the flutter of story’s paintbrush in my inside that the outside has protected with shingled walls and shuttered windows.  I think I must have swallowed a muse. Continue reading →

Four times today I started different posts.  Four times I deleted them often after a sentence or two, sometimes after a couple of paragraphs.  I am trying to use the emotional of reality in fiction writing, thinking that the feeling … Continue reading → Continue reading →

I’m looking for pink-ribboned girls, three bowed heads in church like angel steps to heaven as they kneel together one-two-three lost to a past and penguins’ swish of clicking beads, nor loving hand nor smiling saints above had ever held … Continue reading → Continue reading →