Writer Ellen Morris Prewitt Blog

The Cha-Cha: 1 step back for 2 steps forward

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on September 19, 2013. Posted in General. No Comments on The Cha-Cha: 1 step back for 2 steps forward

We are in a re-beginning. The roll-out of stories, interrupted by my daddy’s death and the grief that followed, is re-starting. To get back in the groove, we’re re-turning to the last aired story, “A Trip to the Lawyer.” It’s one of the shortest, 8 or so minutes. That’s a good thing when you’re re-warming...

Editing on the Moon

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on September 18, 2013. Posted in General. 4 Comments on Editing on the Moon

I gave the words a last once-over, focusing on the new scenes designed to make the novel vibrate. Scrolling, I called it finished and exported the Apple Pages document to a Word document. Hitting “Send,” I sailed Train Trip: Lucinda Mae’s Quest for Love, Honor and the Chickens to the editor. The editor, who lives in the Pacific...

The Gap

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on September 7, 2013. Posted in General. 3 Comments on The Gap

In case you’re wondering about my audio stories I’ve been thrown off track. My daddy died. It punctured my balloon. I’m about to breathe and rise again.

Shoulder Season

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on August 25, 2013. Posted in General. 2 Comments on Shoulder Season

They call it the shoulder season: that time in September when the rental houses are cleaned up and closed out, when the striped tents disappear from the sand, when the gate to the pier creaks on it hinges. The sky still shines blue, the ocean water still laps warm. But the little kids who once hopped like sand fleas across the beach are gone,...

Angels on the Train

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on August 23, 2013. Posted in General. 3 Comments on Angels on the Train

We were many. An overflowing, summer-stuffed, unpracticed group. Even those of us who weren’t novice train-goers were intimidated by the crowd, made nervous by the excess: would I really have a seat? He was kind, the conductor who did not view his job as an opportunity to inflict minor cruelty on those more ignorant—and dependent—than he....

Not Feeling Smiling or Friendly

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on August 21, 2013. Posted in General. 2 Comments on Not Feeling Smiling or Friendly

Exiting the Office Depot, I saw a sign: “Now Hiring Smiling, Friendly People.” I wondered if I would pass the “Smiling, Friendly” test. I debated this on my way to the car. Talking out loud, to myself. “You flunk!” my examiner shouted. “Smiling, friendly people don’t talk to themselves. They have...

Substitution Will Not Work

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on August 21, 2013. Posted in General. 4 Comments on Substitution Will Not Work

Recently, I have had two distinctive events in my life: the death of my dad and the birth of my second grand baby. These events are distinctive in the sense of momentous and thus distinguished from my otherwise normal life. They are also distinctive in the sense of distinct: they have nothing to do with one another. In their comments to me, folks...

Life is Tough All Over

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on August 19, 2013. Posted in General. 4 Comments on Life is Tough All Over

You can talk all you want about how “sweet” my daddy was. And he was sweet, particularly at the end of his life when he tromped through the brambles of dying without letting erupt anger, complaint, or self-pity. In fact, he did the opposite, insisting always that he was doing great, feeling great, just glad as all get-out to be here. But...

Thank you, Daddy

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on August 16, 2013. Posted in General. 3 Comments on Thank you, Daddy

When I was young, I loathed the publication of grief. I hated the wail of ambulances, screaming death through the streets. Even more, I detested the sight of the black crawling hearse, dragging all of us unwillingly into the otherwise-private funeral procession. I’ve mellowed in those opinions, which I held very strongly, very vocally....

White

Written by Ellen Morris Prewitt on August 9, 2013. Posted in General. No Comments on White

The sea burbled in, and the child followed the shells strew on the sand like sparkling coins. Her head full of stories of wrecked pirate ships, she skipped after the seagull feather blown in the breeze and gathered shells willy-nilly, scooping and shaking and stacking in her palm, until she spied the white shells. Soft white puffed shells, like...