What I love about writing--- You can let yourself slip into any setting--- any story. You can close your eyes on a summer day and transport yourself to a platinum-colored winter night where the velvet dark huddles beneath the fir trees. You can slip from the fog and rain of the northeast to the cicada-filled, … Continue reading Good Writing, Hard Discipline
inspiration
The Depths of Procrastination
I walk out to my kitchen. The cold floor tiles numb my bare feet, but I stand at the sink for a moment. I’m avoiding things. A pile of things. I reach over for my stainless steel french press. The plunger makes a metallic zing when I remove it from the carafe. Oh, yes, I’m … Continue reading The Depths of Procrastination
The Nature of a Healthy Life
Now is the time of change--- hibernation. The trees shed their clothes and settle down to sleep, and perhaps their roots stir with thoughts and dreams of what's to come. They look forward to that quiet time--- the dormancy above which nature's harshness will blast--- they look forward to that time of rest and storing … Continue reading The Nature of a Healthy Life
Arguing With Myself in Bathrooms
I've been thinking about conversations lately. Maybe even arguments, you could say. I've always been the type of person who talking things out with people helps get my creative juices flowing. But have you ever had a heated discussion with someone that either excites you or (maybe) angers you so much you leave said person's … Continue reading Arguing With Myself in Bathrooms
Exotic Milk
Where do you stand in a world looking only for exotic names, skins, and avatars? Where do you stand when you're just bland milk with a brain and thoughts that do not fit? It seems to me the world wants bland, uniform innards coated by a colorful shell. It doesn't want bland on the outside … Continue reading Exotic Milk
The First Rule of Writers
Luther stands in the tiny entryway of his apartment and pats down his pockets to make sure he has his keys. Behind him, the last rosy glow of sunset slips off his window ledge. He’s going to be late. He snatches up the bulky portfolio that holds his life’s work— all the scribbles and scratches, … Continue reading The First Rule of Writers
Impostor Syndrome
I sit at my computer biting my nails. It's a bad habit I fall into when I'm highly anxious. I scroll through the screen reading submission guidelines and articles in Literary Journals and magazines. What is it about reading other people's work that makes one feel inadequate? I stare at the glossy photos of the … Continue reading Impostor Syndrome
The Pause Between Books
There's a special moment-- like a breath or a pause-- between books. Maybe it's not even a breath or a pause, but rather a dangling over empty space. A loose end. Whenever this moment comes, I feel like someone who's walked into a room but can't remember why they're there. What was I doing? What … Continue reading The Pause Between Books
Maybe It’s Strange
Maybe it’s strange, but I really don’t mind the darker mornings in the fall. There’s something cozy about the dark pressed up against my window panes, and the way it makes the light inside my house seem more golden. I enjoy the extended mornings because in the summer, I’m usually awake as soon as the … Continue reading Maybe It’s Strange
Camp Unity’s Fence
Gordy-- the cranky old caretaker-- squints at the moss-covered, rickety fence that circles Camp Unity. “Eyesore,” he says, snuffing through one nostril. Three dirt-smudged and wild-haired kids stand beside him in various attitudes of attention. The tallest boy with the tamest hair studies the fence with great attention. Its boards are gray and tall-- much … Continue reading Camp Unity’s Fence
Seeking Prose 