There is a person inside of me who sits on the sofa like the little boy in the back-in-the-day commercial who says, “And I can’t find my socks.”
There’s also the girl who wants to pull on her wellies and stomp through the puddles, umbrella resting on her shoulder.
There’s the granddaughter who wants to shake a wet...
I don’t know anything about sound engineering, but I know somebody who does.
I don’t know anything about press kits, but I know somebody who does.
I know how to write. And read.
For the rest of it, I’ve got friends.
Standing in a thrift shop so stuffed with used clothes I can hardly breathe, I’m reading the warning signs (“Customers, Watch Your Young ‘Uns”) while the proprietress smokes cigarettes and a motorcycle roars by outside and I’m thinking this is worst thrift store I’ve ever been in. Outside, stray cats roam. When we pass the Old Carrabelle Inn...
I’ll be telling a story and the listener will interrupt me. “Yes,” they say. “I read it on your blog.”
Now, when I tell you how odd it is for people to know things about me I didn’t tell them face-to-face, you will say, “Yes, I know. I read it on your blog.”
here’s to creative synthesis ....
It’s official: the Download Party (the Booksellers June 27th) will have food. It’s gonna be a party.
oddest sign: “No Livestock Released” at a Tennessee rest stop, which was something of a disappointment as I’d have liked to see some cows wandering about
oddest sound: in the fancy bathroom of a fancy Charlotte restaurant Elvis singing the “Dixie” portion of An American Trilogy
oddest recurring conversation: about the mother, daughter and toddler...
So I’m walking through the bookstore trying to find a gift for my dad, and I remember the year I talked my sister into giving my grandmother an air conditioning filter for Christmas.
I think we were in Sears, and when I saw the air conditioning filter, it reminded me of those collage photo frames (very popular at the time) with lots of little...
Here’s the question:
Can one make a “social business” out of writing?
By which I mean:
Can I successfully link my short stories with charities engaging the theme of the story?
Will our modern desire to do good when spending our money extend to literature?
Do readers read for anything other than entertainment?
The oaks and maples and ginkgos make me gape. Add an overcast sky to their new growth, and you’ve got “vegetation.” Unfortunately, I’ll get used to it as the season progresses; thankfully, I’m not there yet. I crane my neck, gazing at the lush canopy. I’ve never had a wreck watching the trees, but I could.
I do not shiver. I hunch. And...
* does everyone automatically lift their foot from the accelerate when they see a cop, or is it just me?
* have we ever measured a dog’s blood pressure to see if our presence makes her pressure go down?
* why did the salesman let me buy a black and blue shirt with a black and blue tie to go with “black” pants that would be revealed to be brown once...