Keep It Regular
Strung between calendars and diaries. It was a lie that Reality Engineers had to first craft a mini-universe from a haiku, but they had to be able to full understand what was around them, so that they would notice when things had…
I love it when I hit a roll, and the idea that I am working on now is for the roll to keep going and to never stop. It sometimes seem unreal that you could become something akin to a perpetual motion…
where can hate tread where hatred has not paved the way in the things you do in the things you say and the things you let through when you are reasonable about hate you cannot think it safe to wait you cannot…
Zengler was an odd fish; Angler in the Typing Pools; liked to call books Reality Tablets. He thought of writers as con-artists – especially Immaculate Authors, who he called perpetrators of the longest con. Who was their mark? Anyone who picked up…
You have be in love with something to write. Even if you are only in love with writing, that will work. If you have a wife you love, and animals you love, that changes the quality of the writing, and I don’t…
They’d been storing it between the pages of an old book. They’d been hiring poets and prose writers back then – ones that they could plonk down in front of a hack-rig and have them write something convincing enough to capture a…
i like romance i need clarence everyone needs help getting their wings and other kinds of things not sure if i need a life that sings or a life that dances but i need a life that takes chances i need a…
late night plates the waitress waits the conversations the coffee cups the half-baked realisations he sips, she sups greek and vegetarian a teenager, a septuagenarian a burger, a skillet you have an empty belly til you fill it
Chenry watched the pig saunter off into the bushes. He had chosen as his metaphorm, a Pig-Pen. They were not as common as Bloop-Hens, but they did farm them out in the Clue Hinterlands, where they formed Heards. You fed them on…
the bright after is a music of laughter not a pinned butterfly or a camera shuttered lie the pure peal of an angel’s bell you feel the heart swell like the rise of a far reaching tide when you become the sun…