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There you are, sitting in front of me, mocking me. Do you not understand what it takes to decorate your face with just black ink? How am I to write upon you when you are not giving me any expression
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“The wind had blown off, leaving a loud, bright night, with wings beating in the trees and a persistent organ sound as the full bellows of the earth blew the frogs full of life.” F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
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Hugh Howey’s series of books, starting with “Wool” followed by “Silo”, and ending with “Dust”, have captivated audiences around the world. “This is the story of mankind clawing for survival, of mankind on the edge. The world outside has grown
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One of my first jobs was in a mousetrap factory where we built “Can’t Miss” mousetraps. I sat in front of a bin, a monstrosity in itself, filled with the wooden 2”x4” bases that all the mechanical killing equipment was
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The other day I posted about those pesky verbs that take the color out of telling a story. I gave you all a prompt sentence to re-write and put color to: While playing pool with friends, Mary thought about Jake
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Thought Verbs by; Chuck Palahniuk I found this post by way of another post via another post (amazing how these things work). Chuck Palahniuk makes a challenge to fellow writers to drop certain words from their writing vocabulary and I,
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It’s true. I am still on the skeleton of the book, but I am writing it. I have read hundreds and hundreds of books over the years (maybe even pushing that thousand plus mark), and I decided it was time.
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Originally posted on Interrobang‽: I occasionally frequent a poetry reading in a well-known college town perhaps a bit outside the capital city I live in. (Hey kids! Being vague is fun!) It takes place at one of only three poetry-exclusive…
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