You left me in darkness when you went away. Even now, light dims when I think of you. I’m left with the nearly eternal absence of light because my thoughts are of you between the dawn and dusk of day. I am most alive when I dream of you for dreams are of what we were and what we should have been. The sun rises and shares … Continue reading One
I’m feeling my way through this “dabbling” in experimental writing. The last time he visited Barcelona, he was alone. I was dead. He returned to our beloved city knowing he would find pain but hoped the numbness would lift as he remembered me in the neighborhoods of my youth. Instead, he found the city also in mourning. The warm glow of Gaudi’s lanterns had … Continue reading Dancing With Orange Blossoms, Alternating POV / Reality
Holy cow, that was fast! I submitted my query letter (and first three pages of my novel) yesterday afternoon about 5:00 pm using Query Manager according to the agent’s submission guidelines. Most agents take weeks, if not months, to respond to a writer’s query. Not this one; by 7:00 pm I had emailed the agent asking for any information about why the agent rejected my … Continue reading Pitching Your Novel to Literary Agents
Thank you to everyone who read, liked, and commented on my recent flurry of Novel posts. Most were long reads–over 2,000 words–so I appreciate that you took the time to read them. I’ve finished revising the novel from third-person POV to first-person POV and the difference is remarkable. It was a lot of work, but the story is now a much better read. I’m working … Continue reading Thank You
Thank you so much for reading along and supporting my effort. This novel is thirty years in the making and has been a journey of remembrance, blood, sweat, and tears. Most of the characters are based on real people. Tom’s and Sam’s Susanna was my girlfriend when I was stationed in Spain; yes, she died. Aida was a girlfriend in the Philippines. Lek was an acquaintance in … Continue reading Status: A Wished-For Love
God, how I love writing in the zone. That period when your whole mind is so focused on the story that the story absorbs you and you become your protagonist. His emotions are yours, the blood racing through his veins is yours and the poundpoundpound of his heart is the poundpoundpound of your heart. The dialogue pours out, the conversation moves forward, the emotions tear … Continue reading Writing in “The Zone”
Somehow I’ve contrived to lose a draft post of a little over 200 words. It’s quite deflating to see a work of two months flushed away into WordlessPress Land and not know how it happened. When I left the draft yesterday evening I felt it was shaping up into something I would be ready to post this weekend. My six verses of lyrics titled “Shake … Continue reading Beelzebub – I Lost a Draft!
Have you ever wondered why a blog goes silent? I get worried when bloggers I particularly love have not posted in a while. I become concerned when I try to visit their site to see if I’ve missed a new post and the site doesn’t come up. Such is the case with Victoria. I’ve followed her blog for several years and find her posts, especially her … Continue reading Wherefore Art Thou?
Poor Fervor His neighbors thought him rude He never could remember The Spanish words for Please. (Silly, ain’t I 🙂 Word of the Day Continue reading Poor Fervor
What is the color of my skin when you are hidden beyond the horizon? What is the color of your skin when my heart swells with joy at the sight of you? What is the color of your touch when I clasp your hand in mine? What is the color of my touch when we embrace? What is the color of my mind when you … Continue reading The Color of Her Skin – Poetry by Will
Love isn’t cheap, although love can be cheapened. Love at any cost exacts an incalculable toll on the human soul. A five-dollar short time will get you love in Olongapo City, but what kind of love is that? Even a ten-dollar long time, an all-nighter, gets you nothing but relief, one more conquest to secure your manhood, and another sea story for the guys at work. Where’s the love? Where’s the … Continue reading On Love: Its Toll and Reward
Smiling at someone takes less effort than avoiding them. Who knows, you might make their day…get asked out, get married, honeymoon in Tahiti, have kids, grandkids, buy an RV, roam the country. Or, just walk on by and smile at someone else 🙂 Continue reading Smile
I may not know your story But I’ve had my troubles too, I may not know you’re suffering But I have suffered too, I’ve ached so hard inside my soul I thought that I would die, –No– I hoped that I would die. We all have our stories, None are cut and dry; No two people cry the same Or know the reason why; So … Continue reading Souls Like Yours Are Precious
Roger Bannister, the first athlete to break the four-minute mile, said this about his record-breaking run: “The world seemed to stand still, or did not exist. The only reality was the next 200 yards of track under my feet. The tape meant finality–extinction perhaps. I felt at that moment that it was my chance to do one thing supremely well. I drove on, impelled by … Continue reading On Writing, and the Four-Minute Mile
I remember the night I fell for you, our romance and a lifetime of nightlong dreams. The dreams where you whisper so close to me, seeding memories inside my mind. And when I awake I think you are there and reach up to touch you but clutch empty air, then flinch from the gut punch when I know you’re a spirit and gone. I fall … Continue reading Of Love and Moonsweat
This post from Ana. P. Rose inspired me. Art is truth. Telling the truth is art. When the rejections roll in and it seems like nobody likes your story; when it seems like your work is going nowhere; when you feel like giving up and smashing the keyboard, remember you are an artist and you are writing the truth. Van Gogh’s success came only after … Continue reading Dear Artists, by Ana P. Rose
Your fragrance often wafts into my head guided by the metaphysical pinings of two souls and the bond between spirits not tethered to temporal moorings. Mortal boundaries span six feet of earthly separation but the heavenly plane exists within our senses. Comforting, that thought, and breathing your scent brings thoughts of your heaven wafting through my mind. For heaven is where you took me taking … Continue reading Of Love and Fragrance
For Dad John William Pennington 12/29/1926 – 12/10/1994. GM2C US Navy WWII; SSGT USAF Korea, Vietnam There are two kinds of dead in war: those who die and those who live. Those who die stay dead; those who live die again and again and again until, someday, they too stay dead. He died in World War II during the Battle of Okinawa, but lived another … Continue reading Eighteen Thousand Two Hundred and Fifty
Reposted in memory of my shipmates. The Navy Hymn connects the paragraphs. An orange fireball blots the sky, a mass of white-black cloud shot through with flame. The Navy P-3 Orion yaws as the #3 engine burns and trails an undulating line of black smoke. The starboard wing folds up and shears away; with lift gone the aircraft rolls to starboard. The Orion rolls and rolls, … Continue reading Lima Charlie 85
I wish there were more moments to recall, the ones that show us naked and afraid. Instead, I recall our time together as projections of idealized portraits, retouched and photo-shopped by minds unable to bear the sharp edges and blunt-force trauma that lovers stumble through along the boulder-strewn road of romance. I don’t want to recall only the good moments but the ungood moments too, but maybe it’s better that … Continue reading Of Love and Memories
No boy is raised by only one mom. He’s raised by his friends’ moms too. Happy Mother’s Day to all of my second moms. Continue reading Second Moms
I wondered for a moment if she were kneeling, perhaps stocking the shelves, she barely peeked over the bar, but her Spanish green eyes were bright when she smiled and she told me she didn’t live far; she reached to my shoulders in her bare feet, not much higher in heels, and from my towering perch I never mentioned the few stray, white hairs she couldn’t … Continue reading My Spanish Love
All Life is precious. To march for the right to take life is inimical to healthy society and serves to continue the breakdown of the moral code that sustained human beings since they first learned to live together in groups. The ability to take life without penalty of law is the greatest evil ever perpetrated on civil society. Those who choose to take life in … Continue reading On Life: What Does It Mean to Repeal the 8th? — cultureshift
What a beautiful story. The end surprised me. He remained warm a long time. Warm and still. I lay with my head on his chest, straining to hear the heartbeat that had lulled me to sleep so many times before. Only this time, I wasn’t trying to sleep. I wasn’t tired. I was engulfed: drowning in the tide of arrangements I’d have to make … Continue reading Strings, by J. A. Allen, Scribbles on Cocktail Napkins
I’ve read some of Hemingway’s advice in other places, but this post pulls a lot of the best together. I was unaware of Arnold Samuelson and his connection to Papa; what a great story! Best of all, Hemingway shares his reading list for writers. Thanks to Abigayle Blood for the post. Enjoy! “As a writer you should not judge. You should understand,” Ernest Hemingway (July 21, 1899–July 2, 1961) counseled … Continue reading On Writing: Hemingway on Writing, Ambition, the Art of Revision, from Abigayle Blood at Writer’s Blog
“Thank you for submitting your query for A WISHED-FOR LOVE to (this) Literary Agency for our consideration. Unfortunately, we’re going to pass at this time, as your beginning just didn’t hook us. We know you’ve put a lot of time and effort into your project, but do keep at it! The publishing industry is very subjective, so what may not work for us could be just … Continue reading We’re sorry…
Flowered, freckled skin, Pink fleshy pulp; Salivating senses Anticipate pink flesh; Your fresh scent, Erogenous, Raising hairs along my neck; Alive, electric, eager Shocks jolt my tongue-tip Tasting your pleasing juice. Flesh-pulp rivulets drown my chin; Cheeks aflush with pleasure. Strawberries tease my taste buds. Reposted from 2015 Continue reading Flowered, Freckled Skin
I found this poignant. You need to know yourself in order to know your voice. What I mean by “finding your truth” is not of a doctrinal nature, but simply uncovering your conviction as a communicator. via Finding your Truth — beard with a blog Continue reading On Writing: Finding your Truth, from timholman, beard with a blog
Erased by an impetuous sea, Jealous, I think, of my temerity in leaving behind an imprint of me Stone fabric, cold, incurvated; A chase, the sun, a hand, Symbols, signs, epitaphs that cry “I was here, remember Me.” The wind, the stars, the sea, Inked on the space that surrounds me; Permanence that comes with death, Usually; Not that bodily death is not permanent, Just … Continue reading Leave Something Behind – Poetry by Will
Delightful! The only word to describe this essay from Emergency Wine. I know the feeling of being intimate with the top of my feet. I also know how liberating and free it is to look up and notice the beautiful world around me. Life beats us down occasionally and sets the weight of the world on our shoulders. When that happens, it’s as if all … Continue reading Windswept Serotonin, from Emergency Wine
This dark and deep poem from Joseph Emerson comes from the soul and brings to the surface the fears we all have about living life to the fullest without wasting a moment. I scratched and I clawed my way, several feet up intuitive, survival instincts had quickly kicked in, I punched my way through the tamped surface a ghost of a chance, that I’d let … Continue reading On Poetry: Digging in the wrong direction, by Joseph Emerson,
Such a lovely work I will read again and again. Enjoy! There will come a time when flowers bloom in the corner of minds and earth springs from fingertips as new life forms and the old withers away what a world what a beautiful today. Reblogged from Earth Eyes — G. de Suys Continue reading On Poetry; Earth Eyes, by G. de Suys
Along the beach above the waves Smoothed by time A stone; Purposeless, I suppose, No reason I could tell For stone and me to meet. Some day hence I too will lie Worn by time And weary; The query now, I suppose, The answer I think I know: In life, did purpose meet? I threw the stone into the sea Hard and far from whence … Continue reading The Journey
I’ve held the sparrow and I’ve held You Like a wastrel I squandered what You gave me Your hair trimmed in gold like leaves of the Bible Your breath like the cooing of the dove. I wasn’t looking for adventure When I stumbled onto You In my faltering way of seeking The things I had no idea I needed. I remember Your touch, Your first … Continue reading But Darling
Please enjoy this poem by one of my favorite Poets: let us run (hard) it is not yet summer but the sun is burning my shoulder and the clouds hang back waiting for a sign all buds bursting let us not (give up) stay between walls of ivy each caveat they hurl weighs tons–up against daffodils in your sunglasses and tulips–and rose oil dabbed behind … Continue reading On Poetry: (are we) sprung; from Pleasant Street, Are You Thrilled
Please read this excellent advice from Emily Raper on building your writer’s platform, a must for any writer whose goal is to publish a novel, short stories, articles etc. via: Author’s Canvas In nearly every blogging, writing, or publishing how-to list, advice post, or article, you will hear the words “writing platform.” For people who know exactly what this is and exactly how to build … Continue reading On Writing: The Basics of Building a Writing Platform — from Author’s Canvas
It’s easy to clean the hedge clipper: A little naval jelly removes the rust; Sandpaper smooths the rough spots of Grit the way a dentist removes plaque; The whetstone, when used properly, Sharpens the blades to lethal use. Clean cuts, without ragged edge. Pruning removes the dead, allowing New life to sprout and spread. I tugged a weed one day in my lawn, Annoyed at … Continue reading Root Cause
I wrote an essay for this blog a couple years ago about what it feels like to be a military brat and not have a hometown. Other military brats will understand what I mean. I was born in Turkey and lived in several places before Dad finally retired in Tampa. Dad was born and raised in Bradenton, Florida, Mom in Nederland, Colorado; they had hometowns. … Continue reading Hometowns
Just a quick check-in to say hi and apologize for my inattention to your posts. I love your work and take something away from every post I read. Your words and writing inspire me and lead me to aspire to write better. My absence is not without purpose: I’m engrossed in editing my novel, A Wished-For Love, and I’m zooming right along. I feel like … Continue reading Writing is Eternal Life
By Stephen McGuinness I feel my footsteps Count down days With chimed strokes Resonant, reflective. A sinus wave hearbeat Synchronous vibrations of Train beaten whispered Words on tracks. Calm, a balm, a salve. Chantors: ancient haunting Mantras, dripped holy oils. Smoke in tendrils, lifting, Rising: one, two, three, Expectant tension then Reassuring: four, exhale To begin once more. Repetition, confirmation, prediction. We seek out rhythm, … Continue reading Rhythm and the Fear of Death — Writing from poetry with a small p.
By Stephen McGuinness Hanging yellow smoke, Remnant of blue coal Fire, retreats, yields ground To offered stars, becoming Magnificent in abundance. Time, slowed with motion, Allows a reluctant sun, Lazy with sleep, to Couple with a blind, Impatient world. Warmed colours run, then, Easily into one another. Streaks of glaring light Shower brazen stripes Over bleached winter streets Burdened with yawned Traffic, ploughing heavily Towards … Continue reading February 7th 2018 — Writing from poetry with a small p.
It isn’t until I read Stephen’s poetry that I realize how dry and dull life can be without words like his to lift the heart, or make one cry, as the case may be. He has never yet failed to bring a smile to my face or tears to my eyes. Few people are as gifted as Stephen McGuinness. Fine, cold rain paints my face. … Continue reading Rain on my Face — Writing from poetry with a small p.
Originally posted on Annie Bomke Literary Agency:
A while ago when I solicited advice on what topics to cover in my blogs, someone asked me to cover common mistakes I see authors making in their first pages, so here is my rough list. One quick note before I start the list, just to give you an idea of my mindset going into a manuscript. When… Continue reading The 9 Most Common Mistakes I See on Opening Pages
When I was twelve or so, Dad told me to get off my derrière and earn some money. So, I started pushing the lawn mower around the neighborhood. Thankfully, since we had a corner lot, he’d bought one of those new fangled self-propelled machines. It made it easier, but no less tedious, to mow that forty thousand acre yard in the hot Tampa summer. And … Continue reading Tampa Boy’s First Job
This is a sort of stream-of-consciousness essay. I’m pretty sentimental. Forgive the errors; I’m posting just as I posted it elsewhere. Mr. Linares tried his best to make me enjoy vocational drafting at Tampa Tech, but I hated it and joined the Navy instead. I worked on Navy aircraft for thirty years, both enlisted man and officer. I was stationed on Diego Garcia in the … Continue reading Tampa Boy
Today is social media day for Whisper of an Angel by Lorah Jaiyn. Her novel is available now. Congratulations, Lorah! You’ve made all would-be Authors proud. Good luck 🙂 Available Now: https://goo.gl/fihFfA Sometimes second chances start with four paws. In the small town of Marshall Glen, Sofia retreats from life following the death of her husband. Six-year-old Kady lives in foster care and hasn’t spoken … Continue reading Social Media Day: Writers Helping Writers
Rest In Peace 12 Dec 2017 Operation Freedom’s Sentinel. Staff Sgt. David Thomas Brabander, 24, of Anchorage, Alaska, died Dec. 11 in Nangarhar Province, Afghanistan, as a result of a non-combat related incident. He was assigned to 3rd Battalion, 509th Infantry Regiment, 4th Infantry Brigade Combat Team (Airborne), 25th Infantry Division, U.S. Army Alaska, Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson, Alaska. 27 Nov 2017 Operation Inherent Resolve. Cpl. … Continue reading Servicemembers We Lost in 2017
What I fear most when I appear at the gates of Heaven is a question: “My son, why did you kill the sparrow?” I raised my BB gun and aimed; At the end of the cold steel barrel sat the sparrow singing its song of joy, and happiness, and innocence; I pulled the trigger and let fly the BB; The golden pellet raced through the … Continue reading The Question
When the magic dies and the fruit skin dries and curls; When one face looks like another, and you stop calling your lover; When you look for answers but your lips can’t voice the questions; And the one you loved leaves you to fight yourself without Her; And you wander in the desert of temptation not noticing the pleasures; And numbness covers you in a … Continue reading Eve, In The Garden Of Desire
I praise you I praise you Let me lie beside you Let me lie beside you I hear the song of your spirit in the wind soughing past my ear; I smell the scent that fills me in the rose that is the vessel and the blessed fragrance in your smile. Your hair is trimmed in golden like the leaves within the Bible, and I … Continue reading I Praise You
The Writings of William C. Pennington 