On writing non-fiction

I recently had a conversation with a friend of mine about writing fiction vs. non-fiction.  I explained how somewhere along the way I developed an affinity for writing the latter, and when I do write now, that’s most often what I choose. Just today I was looking through an old filing box, trying to find something completely unrelated, and found the pile of old, old, very old writing of mine…

April 5, 2015
Read More >>

Wendy Ghost (#9)

99/99
March 17, 2015

The boy’s house sits aside the road, in a clearing surrounded by trees. A full moon shines down on the scene where bonfires burn and revelers dance. Spirits fly upward in a translucent host, curling into the sky. Music plays from somewhere distant, but still heard, for this is the night of the dead girl’s festival. Shadows creep where normally there are none. Age shrouds with dust and web those…

Read More >>

Oban (#8)

99/99
March 16, 2015

The air was crisp, and the glow of holiday lights illuminated the night as I walked down the street. The warm, welcoming look of the place is what made me enter. It was upscale, but empty, and the bar was inviting. The man behind it greeted me cordially. “What can I get for you, sir?” “I’m thinking of trying a Scotch.” “Excellent. Which would you like?” “I’m not sure. I’ve…

Read More >>

Land of make believe (#7)

99/99
March 15, 2015

Cassandra was the daughter of a powerful king. One day, she happened upon a strange man sleeping in the fields. She woke him, to discover that he had no recollection of who he was or how he came to be there. After much conversing they agreed to leave together, she not wanting an arranged marriage, and he having finally found a woman his equal. Since he had no name, she…

Read More >>

Cold-blooded (#6)

99/99
March 9, 2015

When I was a boy we raised goats for meat. My pa showed me how to hold ‘em down while he shot ‘em in the head. They were food. Made sense. We were movin’ to the city and had a half wild cat. My pa found her sleepin’ and took her out with a shotgun. Didn’t want kittens sufferin’ out there. Made sense. Our dog got old. My ma dug a hole and set…

Read More >>

Brussel sprouts (#5)

99/99
March 6, 2015

They told me I’d have to sit there until I ate my brussel sprouts. But I didn’t. They left me sitting at the table, alone. Still I didn’t. They said they were going to a movie, and I couldn’t go unless I ate them. So I put them in my mouth. I chewed them. And I stuffed them in my cheek. They bought it. I thought,”win.” We drove to the…

Read More >>

Like the rain (#4)

99/99
March 5, 2015

He turned away from her at the door and walked out into the rain. His chest was tight, and each step took him farther from where he wanted to be. Three blocks away, he stopped, needing more than anything to tell her. Turning back, he began to run as fast as he could, and when he reached her door, drenched and breathless, he knocked. It opened, and she stood there….

Read More >>