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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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Collections
Collections Inventory Dishes Antique furniture My journals Cats 2 Dog 1 Twins Lotsa boys Almost two books Two published things I’m in a writer’s permutation of life at the moment. I collect books about writing and writing advice. I have writing friends and their books. I go to writing conferences and groups. I write blogs, Read more
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Norris Tales…
Norris Tales, The Adventures of an Awful House Cat . I like to call Norris Tales hyperbolic nonfiction. Norris has superpowers of good and evil. Norris, the actual cat, is sixteen years old. He’s become that friend you argue with all the time. He’s demanding. He wants cream, or attention, or no attention. He doesn’t…
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Work it, Sandy
Work it, Sandy. Downpours aren’t kind. Just as predicted, water soaks right through that magazine on your head. Independence means you make the choice to run from here to the door in the rain whether your mom says you can or not. You still get wet. It’s part of life’s journey. The big stuff, you…
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Holiday Head Webs
Holiday Head Webs I declare my independence from the tyranny of head webs, stuff that wakes me…dumb stuff. There have been a bazillion books written about incidents and accidents that leave deep wounds that still bleed. I was supposed to watch my brother at my sister’s cheerleader practice. He was two, I was ten, she…
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The Road
The Road Haunt yourself. What does the sky hunt when it is the color of the red tailed hawk? Hope caught in the clouds and turned to dust, drifting Freedom and loneliness balance between the ground and glory. No footprints on the planks to paradise.
Devonne Brown 