i'm obsessed with shorts. short. stories.
it was a long time ago that the talking heads hit it big. man, their music was EVERYWHERE. in the summer of 1983, i ran a lakeside campground in my small town with my brother, and it was hard hard hard work, but it was fun. i remember a group from a nearby town rented … Read more
dear imaginary readers of this blog, another year. i moved into my own house this year and it’s been busy getting settled, but it feels good, you know? it’s peaceful. anyway, my office is cosy and i’ve got a serious shelving shortage to attend to in the new year, but that’s definitely fixable. and i’m … Read more
this year, for a variety of reasons, i’ve limped along rewriting my MS, and i’ve taken to writing out prompts. recently, i wrote a good one and i share it with you here, my imaginary readers of this blog, because it was fun. i’m currently writing it out into a short story, also fun. god … Read more
i’m 55 years old, and a writer, and my teenage years have been over for a long time. it’s hard to remember. i sit in front of my computer and stare through my words, and watch Val sink into the mud of a shotgun wedding, and Brenda step into a locked stairwell in a psychiatric … Read more
1. my MIL bought the Kirby at a yard sale for $50. it was in its original case, mint condition. 3. i was wary of the Kirby at first glance; I didn’t think something so old would be useful. 4. my MIL had to talk me into the Kirby when she offered it to me. i think my … Read more
it’s been a week. i’m not fond of November because it’s dark. the news is fucking unrelenting. and then there’s this year-long realization of conditions in the misogynistic literary landscape. i had hopes. i did. the evidence isn’t supporting my hopes. then this article came along ‘on pandering’ and it’s got me thinking: where am … Read more
“I’ve been accused of vulgarity. I say that’s bullshit.” Mel Brooks
Weeping Woman (Dora Maar) by Grace Nichols 14. Picasso, I want my face back the unbroken photography of it once, I lived to be stroked by the fingers of your brushes Now I see I was more an accomplice to my own uprooting Watching the pundits gaze open-mouthed at your … Read more