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The sequel to Norris Tales is written, twenty-five thousand, one hundred nine words. Norris Lives. It’s a book of short stories and vignettes about Norris, the seventeen year old cat that I’ve fought and lived with for a long time. Hey, this is a big deal. I have two more big deals to go, formatting
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“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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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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“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 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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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
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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
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I left the windows on the car open when it got hot in the summer. Mom and Dad always did, so I figured I better too. The car was so hot a dog would have died if I’d have left it in there, a kid would have too, open windows or not. Our parents left
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If you’re doing your best writing, you’re always on the cusp of embarrassing yourself.” –Arthur Miller I’ve been tasked to write my Author’s Mission Statement. It’s in the brainstorming and drafting stages at this point. I’ve stolen phrases from other writers I know. I’ve stuck fancy words in it and wrangled them around to make
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In the Time of the Sonnets
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
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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
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The sequel to Norris Tales is written, twenty-five thousand, one hundred nine words. Norris Lives. It’s a book of short stories and vignettes about Norris, the seventeen year old cat that I’ve fought and lived with for a long time. Hey, this is a big deal. I have two more big deals to go, formatting
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“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
-
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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“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 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
-
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
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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
-
I left the windows on the car open when it got hot in the summer. Mom and Dad always did, so I figured I better too. The car was so hot a dog would have died if I’d have left it in there, a kid would have too, open windows or not. Our parents left
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If you’re doing your best writing, you’re always on the cusp of embarrassing yourself.” –Arthur Miller I’ve been tasked to write my Author’s Mission Statement. It’s in the brainstorming and drafting stages at this point. I’ve stolen phrases from other writers I know. I’ve stuck fancy words in it and wrangled them around to make
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Invocation
I love to invoke the muses, the proper Pagan practice. The joyful noise of the Canadian Brass playing the Vespers of the Blessed Virgin or Rod Stewart singing Up on the Roof, either one can invoke Terpsichore, the muse of Music. She’ll then ramp up your event with energy, grace, and lots of class. The…
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Don’t Tell Mom.
“Don’t tell Mom,” I said. “She’s pregnant.” he said right in front of Mom. He pointed to me. “He did that on purpose too. If he had kept his mouth shut you wouldn’t be here. Neither one of you would. Your dad saved your lives. You can give him credit for that.” If he had…
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Peace Escaped
Peace escaped. Bound to sadness and pain. Even the doves that brought peace and tranquility had given up hope and moved on. There were other souls to save, and time was of essence. There was only so much with which a human could cope, a wreath of laurel leaves and branches, another burden to bear…
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My Commandments
My personal commandments are not religious, but they have a spiritual ring to them, I suppose. They are today’s commandments. I may change my mind somewhere down the road. I know they would have been different before I had children. The crone is evolving, 5. Be creative. Make life interesting. 6. Smile more.…
Devonne Brown 