“Life was as delicate as the paper held in her hand.” Lessons learned… from what was found in the old trunk.
Head still down, she looked at the vines that started under the dead leaves lying before her. Following the green of their winding on the trees that lined the path brought her eyes up, climbing their height as the vines did. They were life; growing infinitesimally and breathing as she looked at them. And as her head lifted she saw in the distance an opening through the trees at the crest of the hill she’d labored to climb but was only halfway there.
On Monday August 30, 1993, I got the call I do remember. Shock is too thin a word. The hardest hit to the most sensitive part of a man doesn’t come close to conveying how I felt when my brother told me my mother had shot herself. She was only 61.
Began writing mid-January 2018; just passed the 100,000-word mark. Historical fiction (my fourth story/project in the genre) for publication Spring 2019. The Rome he has been trained to serve, the Rome of Augustus and Germanicus, was gone. In its place stood Neronopolis, ruled by a megalomaniac brat.” ―James Romm, Seneca at the Court of Nero […]
I answered the phone, and after the “Hi, how’re you doing,” he had started the conversation: “I believe many of these students have already formed the way they view life. If they don’t have basic honesty as part of who they are…” It was Tom Faught, one of my clients on the phone; he’d emailed […]
With thanks to Dan Caldwell; something we talked about inspired this story. He slowed the rocker when he heard the steps come out onto the wooden-floored porch. His eyesight was failing, but hearing was still sharp as ever. Those boards—how they sounded when trod on—told him it was his great-grandchildren. “Alice… and Jimmy, you came to […]
A little warm-up writing (draft) from this morning’s coffee… (spurred by this image and a ‘mock’ cover I created that could one day be a real story). Spring had died, drowned by the climbing mercury in the giant thermometer on the brick wall of Tilson’s bar she could see by day in rising and fading […]
With a sigh she didn’t realize had come from her… she stooped to fill her jug.
I think many people (at least I know I do) get the most enjoyment and value out of things that are more than one layer deep. It could be the richness of a color (like you could dip your finger in it), the texture of a fine wood and look and feel of its grain, the savor of the food or drink, the subtleties and nuances of a well-written book, well-scripted/written movie or TV show, the joy of an intelligent discussion/conversation. It’s the same for me when it comes to the quality of interaction with another person and clients and I very much appreciate the quality of the person I work with and hope to know and work with them for a long time to come.
Sometimes creation is spurred by a plan, a predetermined action. I’ve found it’s also triggered often by something random. A sound, smell… a picture or image… sometimes a place or setting. All of them have an effect. Music is intense for me. It, sometimes a specific song, transports me into a vivid memory. Songs figure […]