This morning was a typical morning. Typical because I awoke to the typical physical pain that I have awoken to for the past three years. A fused right ankle from an injury had flared up once again. The remnants of a flu virus had sent me into a convulsion of coughing. It was 7 am–sunlight peeked through the blinds, and I was suddenly wide awake. After getting the violent cough under my control, I carefully stepped out of bed. I quickly sat back down on the side of the bed and massaged my right foot and ankle. Ah, much better I thought. I stood up again, and though the pain was still there, it was tolerable.
Writers are unique in the world. Every writer has a special voice and style that is specific to them. An author’s style and voice are as unique as their fingerprints. No matter what genre you prefer to write you still need an ear that is not your own to bounce ideas against. The “what ifs” and “how to’s” need sorting and what better way than to sit down with a fellow writer and friend to discuss your story–or anything else about a writer’s platform. An honest dialogue is important between writers. Continue reading “The Writer’s Dialogue”→
Have you ever wondered about your very existence? I’m sure at some point you wondered how you fit in as part of the universe. What if you could just float straight up and watch the world and everything on it get smaller until you found yourself in unfamiliar space–how would that feel? Perhaps a bit like this. Continue reading “Dot on a Speck”→
I remember well the summers in upstate New York when I was young. The four-acre farm that my family lived on was not just a training ground of responsibility for my siblings and me. It was a natural school. We learned how to work as a team–which was often a tug of war for the best and easiest assigned chores. There were five of us–three girls and two boys. My father had a riding lawn mower, and thank goodness because he mowed about two-thirds of our four-acres.
If you stood at the side of the road facing our two-story farm house, you would see a large freshly mowed field to the left. Closest to the road was a large raspberry patch that my mother employed us to pick from for jams, jellies and sometimes pies. Much further back in the field was a fenced in chicken coop where the meanest rooster in the world lived. But that is another story. Continue reading “Duck the Swallows”→
We all want an audience for what we choose to write. Finding that audience is not as easy as you would think. I’m at a real conundrum in my writing. I love to write personal narratives, poetry, and fiction. I like to write fictional stories which usually include dragons. I have written plenty of short personal stories about my youth or about anything that I happen to find inspirational. So, when asked who I think my audience is I stutter and stammer like a child giving their first oral report. Then, I shrug my shoulders. Continue reading “The Audience”→