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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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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…
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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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Intro…
“It’s jacked up. Nobody consulted me about a standard damned poodle coming into this house. Life was just fine. It’s jacked up as shit,” said Norris. He stomped in a circle and thumped his tail before he could compose himself to continue. He was too damned mad. Norris was without words. “This had better not… Read more
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The Last Sunday
The Last Sunday of Summer Today is the last Sunday of summer. I go back to school tomorrow. A whole new ride starts. I didn’t think about it until yesterday. God, I hate giving up summer. I became a writer this summer. Being a writer gives you permission to stay home and write. In fact,… Read more
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Garden Success
All gardens need a boy. Read more
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Soccer Mom
Soccer Mom “When someone makes a goal, click this button and record the time here and the kid’s number here,” said Linda, the coach. She was pointing to two columns on an Excel Spreadsheet on one of those coach’s clipboards with the secret compartments. “They’re six, Linda, why do we need a spreadsheet?” I think… Read more
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Summer Days
Summer Days People ask me how I spend my summers. I have few human relatives near me, so Norris, Madam, and Opal Pearl are the immediate family. The true answer is I spend my summers doing whatever I want. I met two and a half goals this summer, and I rarely set goals. The first… Read more
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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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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…
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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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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…
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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,…
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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,”…
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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…
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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…
Devonne Brown 