It was uncomplicated and obvious: sit and write. But she could not. Not with the kids, and the dishes, and the emails, and the days that required all of the mental fortitude and focus she could mine from within the depths of her weary being. She was always buzzing with the undercurrent of restless energy … More Chasing Phantoms
She was often disappointed. With the endings of films, with her relationships and all of their lackluster trimmings, and most often with herself. Yet this one shining moment, against all odds, was not to be filed away with the cancelled plans and regrettable plot twists. The door opened with the attitude of a student who … More Through the Black Door
There was an almost painful quality to their beauty, which she found all the more surreal up close, with color that burst and appeared to run liquid. Gazing directly at them from above, she was instantly drawn in by their complexity of hues- plums ringed in fuchsia, sunbursts circled with coral- as if they had … More The Sublime
Feeling a mix of triumph and defeat, Denver arose the next morning and checked out of the regrettable motel before proceeding to the cold, hard, unfeeling road. So many trees. Though they did their best to merge into a solid, uninspiring wall, she thought of all the life housed within each. So many different stories … More Life, Death, and Aromatics
Her view had become a blur of row after row of pine trees so dense not a ray of light broke through their wall. Every few seconds, she’d pass a dead tree- a lone, sad, brown reminder of the passage of time, the inevitability of death. What was on the other side? More trees? More road? Likely. … More An Impromptu Set of Brass Knuckles
Her father, unfortunate recipient of prostate cancer, passed away when she was only ten. Following his departure from this earth, her mother followed suit the next year, disappearing into a cocktail of pills, both prescribed and acquired through slightly more nefarious means, before walking out into the wide, wide world, never to be seen or … More The Maiden and the Misanthrope
“It never looked as terrible as it was and it made her wonder if hell was a pretty place too. Fire and brimstone all right, but hidden in lacy groves.” – Toni Morrison, Beloved “Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying; And this same flower that smiles today Tomorrow will be dying.” – Robert Herrick, … More A Curious Thing
Do not fear the messy page, rife with cross-throughs and edits. Those smudges and X’s are like the billowy green algae visible just beneath the surface of the water, evidence of the life lurking beneath. Inception, growth, death, and new life all entwined in the microcosm of the page. Rich, full. No, do not fear … More Do Not Fear the Chaotic Page
(My beloved Paperblanks journal! Get it here: http://amzn.to/2v7JoOw ) It sounds great in theory. Sketch out your plot, draft at your leisure, and slowly but steadily create what will one day become your first published novel. You have other sources of revenue so writing is your passion, not your livelihood, but therein lies the problem. You … More Pitfalls of a Part-time Writer
She remained on the road for the better part of three days. The comforts of a cheap motel-a place apart from time, with no designs on bettering itself- had alleviated a modicum of her stress and smoothed some of the crazy out of her appearance, but she felt little improved. A restlessness was waging war … More The Motel
