Category Archives: Writing

One of the hazards of conducting research for writing a piece of fiction is becoming so intrigued by the subject of the research that the writing doesn’t get done. I know this because I’ve been told it happens and, unfortunately, I’ve … Continue reading →

“Dawn, ripening to the hue of a pumpkin, crept out of the night sky behind streaks of thin grey clouds ripping across the horizon like claws.” The questions, of course, are these: Who is Dawn and why is she creeping out of the … Continue reading →

Black streaks and a film of grey grime already covered the mounds of snow, pushed against the curbs and sidewalks by plows an hour earlier. This gritty reality was utterly unlike the fresh beauty of winter snows he remembered from life on a farm in the Texas … Continue reading →

Yesterday, during an email exchange with a friend (who was aboard a train from Newark, bound for Atlantic City), we discussed his angst about being stuck on the train. He was annoyed that he had not flown to Philadelphia, as … Continue reading →

A couple of days ago, I decided not to publish anything I’d written that morning. Yesterday, was the same. It felt strange not to upload anything to share with the tiny piece of the world that sometimes reads what I write. I felt like … Continue reading →

Tonight, several of us gathered at the Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow read some of our work. Heretofore, I’ve enjoyed reading my poetry and my stories, but last night it felt different; strained and uncomfortable, as if I were reading … Continue reading →

If I could raise a toast, I would. I would celebrate a victory of gritty substance over fantasy. I would cheer profundity in a vapid sphere that offers accolades to ephemeral vapor. I would add my voice to a raucous crowd, one of … Continue reading →

It is unreasonable, of course, that I am staying in a suite at the Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow designed for writers of culinary materials. Yes, I did choose this suite. And yes, I intended to cook fabulous meals during … Continue reading →

I thought, last night, of ways to explore stories from a thousand perspectives, each reflecting off another so that the images created by the light refracted through multiple prisms would be far clearer and more precise than even an three-dimensional image. … Continue reading →

As I sit here at my unfamiliar writing desk, in unfamiliar surroundings, thinking unfamiliar thoughts, I wonder about the point of this exercise. I wonder whether a few days of self-imposed focus will do any more than focus on knowledge I … Continue reading →

You leave, hoping the leaving will provide answers you haven’t found where you are. You search, expecting to find clues on the open road or maybe down a side street in a forlorn town whose future, from the looks of it, … Continue reading →