“I like good strong words that mean something.” ~Jo March (Little Women) I chinned the rusty barrel near the hem of our woods. The carbon petals curled and separated. The ashes fluttered high and melted into the atmosphere. Cremation complete. The weekly newspaper over in the next county had rejected my fiction story—the […]
when i was no writer and my words were poo
“I like good strong words that mean something.” ~Jo March (Little Women) I chinned the rusty barrel near the hem of our woods. The carbon petals curled and separated. The ashes fluttered high and melted into the atmosphere. Cremation complete. The weekly newspaper over in the next county had rejected my fiction story—the […]
when jealousy visits
Jealousy is one of the occupational hazards of being a writer, and the most degrading. And I, who have been the Leona Helmsley of jealously, have come to believe that the only things that help ease or transform it are (a) getting older, (b) talking about it until the fever breaks, and (c) using it […]
Window on Writing: Whoa!
We head east, past the field, past the house. Dennis leads the way. Turk’s a buckskin, part American Saddlebred. I follow on Lady, his part-Shetland strawberry roan. She’s my age, and I think she’s jealous. She limps. And swings her head around to nip at my feet. I call ahead. I think she’s hurt. […]
Window on Writing: When Words Won’t Come
When the body’s weary and words won’t come take a nap take a walk snap some pictures and chew on words that nourish your writer’s heart. The line of words fingers your own heart. It invades arteries, and enters the heart on a flood of breath; it presses the moving rims of […]
