Keep It Regular
the need i read page-turners sentences that escape their boundaries slip through fingers enjambement slide i grab as many as i can stacked around, waiting i am never really contemplating not reading them half reading them each book marked i’m a reader,…
The monk moved through the shattered temple, sparks rattling around his head like fireflies. He was mumbling something under his breath that context may have forced people to believe was a mantra or somesuch — it wasn’t … he was angry. War…
Do I sometimes err into a style of writing that is didactic? Surely. I know that I do it in poetry. Sometimes my fiction is a thinly veiled morality lesson. Can it be a problem? I suppose you might say that, but…
If there were not some degree of isolation in my life — some part of me that doesn’t need too many people around — would I be doing the things I do? Would I be created and out together in the way…
i am pulling lines out i would lose in the dissolution and pollution of collectivism i am a prism breaking the prison into shattered rainbows where the rain goes pools in the puddles that dream themselves mirrors i am a ball of…
my eyes do not see unkind to blind to unable to find you because unable to find self i built the shelf guilt’s silt inside unsure shore delivered by the tide building a damn to hold back the flow which drowns so…
How does time work in a story? It isn’t as straightforward as once upon a time, or saying when something happened. It also has to do with how you deliver the story. Line length is a vital tool that can speed a…
a new story a news story a we knew story a we’re blue story multi-stories parked above the grave of aplomb a headline a byline a bomb some days you just wish all the reporting was gone
Likeable characters are not always the thing people want to watch. Characters that swing between impulse and guilt are not good people just because they regret what they did, when they keep up the same pattern of behaviour. Sure, there are people…
those frozen moments nostalgia sepia they creep in seep deeper hold you hostage like a dream caught in the fade before dawn wakes into day the hands are static the action automatic the pause held like a dancing moment you seek them…