-
On the basic plot diagram, I’m midway on the rising action, maybe not in order. I’m happy with the lot I’ve written and marked completed. Spoiler alert, I wrote the climax already. I couldn’t help myself, it had to be done before I could write another word or make a cup of coffee. I’m juggling
-
I bought the perfect shoes to wear to my niece’s wedding. They were black leather with an inch and a half kitten heel. Just above the heel was a gold plate that made me glisten when I walked. But I didn’t have a dress, so I made one. I haven’t done any real sewing, not
-
I’ve been writing a novel with the working title, “In the Time of the Sonnets.” Without giving anything away at all, it’s got Shakespeare, giants, messengers, and kings in it. Of course there will be a witch here or there, but that’s beside the point. I’m heavy into the rising action and I’m already surprised
-
When you start reading to your kids, you do it because you want them to learn to read. Then this happens. My first born read a passage from a book about Vincent Van Gogh having a “cafe moment,” when Van Gogh’s experience, memory, talent, time, and place all converged into one glorious period of creativity
-
High School Gossip
“I heard they broke up and Tom was going to ask Janeen to the prom,” Becky announced it in Social Studies class. “Betty was all upset about it in English this morning. She was so mad she was crying. I’d hate to be Janeen,” “How do you know that’s why Betty was so mad and Read more
-
Anticipation
Anticipation, sweaty palms shaking; Jittery, bouncing a foot on the floor Trembling legs crossing, uncrossing, twitching Recheck your hair in a makeup mirror Peek out the window, hover by the door Pace — hide your face behind your hands, cover Hover again, then sit quivering A pounding heart, lack of concentration Glances at the clock, Read more
-
Interrupting Birdsong
I asked for the time, but the darkness didn’t answer. I rolled out of bed, and walked down the hall to the kitchen. The clock on the stove said 3:00 a.m., so why not make coffee and enjoy the quiet of the morning? Listen to the songbirds and the breathing of the sleeping humans in Read more
-
On the basic plot diagram, I’m midway on the rising action, maybe not in order. I’m happy with the lot I’ve written and marked completed. Spoiler alert, I wrote the climax already. I couldn’t help myself, it had to be done before I could write another word or make a cup of coffee. I’m juggling
-
I bought the perfect shoes to wear to my niece’s wedding. They were black leather with an inch and a half kitten heel. Just above the heel was a gold plate that made me glisten when I walked. But I didn’t have a dress, so I made one. I haven’t done any real sewing, not
-
I’ve been writing a novel with the working title, “In the Time of the Sonnets.” Without giving anything away at all, it’s got Shakespeare, giants, messengers, and kings in it. Of course there will be a witch here or there, but that’s beside the point. I’m heavy into the rising action and I’m already surprised
-
When you start reading to your kids, you do it because you want them to learn to read. Then this happens. My first born read a passage from a book about Vincent Van Gogh having a “cafe moment,” when Van Gogh’s experience, memory, talent, time, and place all converged into one glorious period of creativity
-
Meteor Shower
The house went dead quiet and the den lights went out. The whirr of the refrigerator stopped. Norris knew something was wrong, same as I did. He asked for cream before the fridge got warm, he understood. I gave him treats instead. Usually these things flickered and came back on within seconds, then everything blinked,…
-
Tune up
“One of the best parts of the concert is when the orchestra tunes up their instruments,” said Silas. “It hides the frenzy backstage, but hints at it when the squawks and squeaks get flung from the pit to the back of the house.” “The more frenetic the tune up, the bigger the tribute the director,”…
-
Stella’s Walk
Stella felt like she walked to the door of an open plane. She was terrified of heights, two miles was a long way to fall. Her walk was short today, less than fifty feet, and she didn’t have to take it, not really. Maybe she wouldn’t. She could turn around. Her friends that surrounded her…
-
Exerpt from Mark Twain’s War Prayer
Mark Twain’s “War Prayer”. It’s not for everyone. It’s not sweet nor is it funny. Lots of folks don’t even like it. “Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth into battle — be Thou near them! With them — in spirit — we also go forth from the sweet peace…
-
Mom’s Road Trip, Revisted
Mom lost her mind and married Roebuck. None of the kids could stand him, but she was entitled to her midlife crisis, same as anyone else. Since his house burned down on their first date, something about gunpowder gun cleaning equipment and an explosion, such a catastrophe, that they moved to Texas soon after they…
Devonne Brown 