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…breathe deeply and often…

  • The Invitation

    Mania is an expensive disease of unspeakable joy. I missed a day of school and missed professional development trauma training with personal trauma self-care/ My world rocked. I took a sick day, ended up taking two without a fever. Sickness doesn’t always come with high temperatures, sometimes it looks like notions and I took one…

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  • 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…

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  • My Wedding Dress

    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…

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  • 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…

    Read more

  • Van Gogh Epiphany

    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…

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  • Mommy’s Angel

    I begged for a guitar for Christmas. I got down on my knees in supplication to Mom one Saturday morn when the snow was knee deep outside, I remember. That’s all she heard that year. I did every chore she gave me with glee, on the outside at least, three quarters my best instead of… Read more

  • Good King Wenceslas

    “I love the way the full moon glistens on the snow when it’s deep and crisp and even like this, not a mark on it,” the good king said. It was St. Stephen’s Day, Boxing Day, the patron saint of stonemasons and bricklayers, the first martyr, stoned to death for blasphemy. He was also the… Read more

  • Gilly and the Peashooters

    “Gilly and the Peashooters” was first published in Appalachian Fusion, Pine Mountain Sand and Gravel, Contemporary Appalachian Writing, Vol 27 Read more

  •   Creation sans fear

    I  don’t have to practice transcendental meditation to create masterworks, maybe I do. Read more

  • Memory is the Truth Glorified

    Memory is the Truth Glorified Dad buffed his shoes, he wouldn’t look at us. “It wasn’t like that. We didn’t have big Christmases when you all were little.” “What do you mean? Presents covered the whole living room. There were dolls with dresses. We both got Chatty Cathys that matched our hair. We got high… Read more

  • My Angels

    On Monday, my twin premature babies will be twenty-six. I shake my head in disbelief. “We were angels before we were born, and we were sent to your tummy for our wings to grow off so we could take care of you.” Big silver two year old eyes looked up at me. He was speaking… Read more

  • The Invitation

    Mania is an expensive disease of unspeakable joy. I missed a day of school and missed professional development trauma training with personal trauma self-care/ My world rocked. I took a sick day, ended up taking two without a fever. Sickness doesn’t always come with high temperatures, sometimes it looks like notions and I took one…

    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…

    Read more

  • My Wedding Dress

    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…

    Read more

  • 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…

    Read more

  • Van Gogh Epiphany

    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…

    Read more


  • Some thump

    “What the fuck? It’s three a.m. and my kitchen is as nasty now as it was when I fried chicken at noon today,” thought Tess. Something had woken her up out of a sound sleep. Some thump. “What the fuck?” She found the fuck passed out on the couch in the living room. How dare…

  • 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…