I’m not a fan of monopolies no matter how convenient they make shopping, or how cheap they can sell products. Progress is good in many ways, but the easier it is to do things from a computer – shopping – the less time we spend interacting with others. It’s the same dilemma we find ourselves facing with cell phones. The computer and cell phone are … Continue reading Convenience
I can’t count the times I’ve been asked by a writer to provide “an honest” critique or review of his work. Invariably, I think to myself, “What? I’m going to give you a dishonest review? I’m going to lie to you?” I think what they mean is they don’t want me to spare their feelings. I never ask for an honest critique. Last month, I … Continue reading A Wished-For Love, Second Beta Review
Originally posted on clairevetica:
Photo by Bruno Nascimento on Unsplash ? Do you remember do you remember the minutiae of a world in the cracks of a bluestone wall where sparkling bits of gravel and sand and tiny rocks would nestle and we’d trickle them through our fingers carefully arranging them in little piles do you remember the hollows in the ground behind curves of… Continue reading Reblog: do you remember
The last three weeks have been a pleasant vacation from writing and posting. The break presented an opportunity to catch up on chores and reading, both of which suffered from lack of attention. I needed to step away and take a breather after finishing the novel that consumed so much of my life since first putting pen to paper in December 2013. “A Wished-For Love” … Continue reading A Wished-For Love: First Beta Review
I read constantly that editing is hard. No. Editing is not hard. Writing is hard. Editing is tedious. Excruciatingly boring. Gut-wrenchingly, the-sun-is-shining-for-the-first-time-in-weeks, birds-are-singing, optimism-is-everywhere, but-I’m-stuck-behind-this-desk-in-pursuit-of-my-laudable-goal, boring. Oh, look; Gone With the Wind is on TV! Oh, oh, oh! A Gilligan’s Island rerun marathon! Continue reading Editing — A Wished-For Love
Originally posted on The Writings of William C. Pennington:
I walked through a wood one late summer’s day, Afternoon light dappled a forest glade; Lily pad in green-black pond and on it lay A frog whose languid croak appeared to say, As he scratched white belly in sun’s warm ray, I shall not move on this late summer’s day. I stopped to ponder my neighbor… Continue reading The Frog and the Granite Shore
I apologize if the new title for my writing posts makes you hungry. I cannot stop thinking of Rice Crispies; does any cereal hold more sugar? As a ten-year old boy, I reached for unsweetened cereal in the cupboard. I wanted to choose the amount of sugar on my own. Some cereals tantalized my tongue with lots of added sugar, while others were delicious with … Continue reading Write Crisp – Word Choice
So, there I was, reading calmkate’s response to today’s Daily Prompt, Crisp, and, as is my wont, pondering ways to submit an outside-the-box response of my own. That led to a headache which made me stop thinking and make some tea (Stash brand Licorice Spice, BTW). Two tea bag tea, too (yeah, I know, but I drink tea out of a huge coffee mug). Writing … Continue reading Write Tight? Or Write Crisp?
I’m not a note taker. Nor am I a retainer. However, I carry a paper brain with me to meetings, jot things down, order them, number them, draw lines (with a ruler) through completed (or wishful thinking-completed) items, and look with jealousy at people who have advanced degrees in note taking. Do Type A folks take notes? Or are note takers Type C? I’m a … Continue reading Write Tight
Aida was the one all along, Susanna. Yes, Tomás. She has given me the half of my heart I buried with you. Yes, Tomás. I knew love would come to you again. I grieved so long for you, Susanna. Yes, Tomás. Too long. Aida makes me feel like you and I are together again. I know, Tomás. I can’t bring you back, Susanna, so I … Continue reading Susanna X
Writer’s dilemmas are a part of writing. They occur with every well-thought out novel. If you don’t find yourself boxed in somehow, then you probably have not written a plot complex enough to grab the reader and hold her attention. Plots should resemble life in its complexities. They need twists and turns, unexpected outcomes, surprises, and falls from cliffs with protagonists clinging by fingertips to … Continue reading Write Tight
Golden fields stretch far, Rolling hills studded with rocky ledge; My fingers brush the fibrous Beards of breezy strands Tapping at my legs; Behind me the reaper Harvests ripened grains. I move apace, steady on For looming edge. Continue reading Grains
This is so beautifully written that my hand turned warm from the touch of Kris’s heart. If I am ever in need of loving care at the end of my days, I hope someone like Kris is there to see me through. I’m tired today. Tonight. Whatever. It is 4 am and I just woke mum to empty her waste bag. I stared at … Continue reading Ribbons, by Kris
Trace died, leaving few signs that he spent a lifetime laughing and crying among seven billion fellow human beings. For the Daily Prompt. Continue reading Trace
Word Choice. Ernest Hemingway is said to have paused writing for days while searching for the right word. I don’t have the patience for that, though I will put my pen down and spend a few minutes racking my brain for the word on the tip of my tongue. I suspect Ernest had more on his mind than finding lexicologic Nirvana. One word that I … Continue reading Mr. Grundy’s English Class
I often see writers use the term “aircrafts” when referring to two or more aircraft. “Aircraft” is the correct term for both singular and plural cases. Example the first: “The aircraft flew until it ran out of fuel. Then it made a sudden landing.” Example the second: “The aircraft were parked wingtip to wingtip making them easy targets for strafing by treacherous seagulls. It’s one … Continue reading Mr. Grundy’s English Class
I’m pretty happy with this chapter 🙂 Ten minute read Tom grinned when Sasi waved and called to him from her balcony. He returned her wave and walked faster. When he looked again she had gone. He pushed through the revolving door and strode through the lobby to the elevator. The clerk called to him but the words didn’t register. The elevator doors opened and … Continue reading Sasi and Tom, A Wished-For Love, Chapter Twenty-One
From Chapter Twenty-One of A Wished-For Love She turned to face the sea and he joined her, standing so close that their shoulders bumped. He inhaled the thick, jasmine scent of her perfume. The nearness of her body sent a thrill through him, lifting the hairs on the back of his neck. The thrill passed, but the feeling remained, a warmth that seemed to buzz … Continue reading Sasi II
Character may falter, but forgiveness never forgets. Continue reading Character
I’ve never written a book review; this is not one, sort of. Book critics who use William Faulkner words and philosophical language to sell books, or not, intimidate me so I leave that skill to others. However, Wake of the Wahoo, by Forest J. Sterling, struck a chord with me and I wanted to share a few observations. Wake of the Wahoo is the story of … Continue reading Wake of the Wahoo, a non-Book Review Review
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
My heart is breaking, coming apart in pieces I see the top of her head, seventeen-thousand heartbeats away We spoke in line, waiting for the call to board She stood next to me, reading mail on her phone I pretended, under the spell of her nearness, to be her boyfriend and Stood close so others would not jostle her We laughed and joked, silliness between two … Continue reading The Girl in 16E
Originally posted on Writing from poetry with a small p.:
I keep the sea, always, To left or right of me Because easy roads, Worth travelling, run Parallel to shore. I stop, turn, gaze out Across blue-green water, Raise a hand to worn, Knotted, unseeing sailors, My nails scraping gently on glass. I leave in the lull Between gusts, when Fear overtakes wonder, And salt… Continue reading Parallel
Re-blogged from Cafe Reading Site. You don’t need the exclamation point if you convey your thought well enough in words. That is my goal. In my 90K word novel, I have no exclamation points. Let your characters’ actions speak for themselves. Keep your exclamation points under control. You are allowed no more than two or three per 100,000 words of prose. If you have the … Continue reading Write Tight
Originally posted on Writing from poetry with a small p.:
Wild garlic flowers; White stars scattered in shade of beech. Bluebells; bruises between. Horse chestnut blossoms, gathered in cones, point to the sky. Cabbage White butterflies perform duties with light strokes and the surest of touches. A level land sits still. The remains of a pastel wedding party’s chatter and distant traffic hums speckle the… Continue reading Untitled
I grip it with my toes That phantasmagoric line between living and dying Behind rise the hairs on my neck Ahead my heart pumps furiously To live is to die Yet I am not finished living I grip the precipice with my toes When I stop living I will die. Precipice Continue reading Precipice
What a beautiful quote from daysixtyfive.com. Happy Mother’s Day! 🙂 ❤ Continue reading Beautiful Life ~ Mothers Day Special Quote
Chapter Twenty-two from “A Wished-For Love.” 2,929 words. Tom looked up to Sasi’s balcony on the top floor directly over the pool. He wasn’t surprised to see her waving and calling to him. He returned her wave and walked faster. When he looked again she had gone. He pushed through the revolving door and strode through the lobby. The clerk called out but Tom ignored … Continue reading Tom and Sasi
They bury their dead in vaults. Long rows of casket-sized holes stacked six bodies high. Mourners shuffle along behind the men struggling beneath the weight, the dead weight, inside the casket. Mostly, they do. Her casket was featherlight, the body inside so nearly weightless it seemed heartless to call it dead weight. The men carrying her body stood ramrod straight, as men are wont to do … Continue reading The Wedding Band
Walking though the city, another set of footsteps in the crowd Peering in the crystal panes, another reflection of the proud Standing out is difficult when you’re just another face The crowd doesn’t notice you, they’re in the same rat maze. Maze Continue reading Daily Post Prompt: Maze
Originally posted on Pacific Paratrooper:
Magdalena Leones The Silver Star is the third-highest honor for gallantry in the U.S. Armed Forces. Previous recipients include Audie Murphy, Chuck Yeager, and Norman Schwartzkopf. But few people have heard of Magdalena Leones – she was a Filipino woman that served as a guerrilla soldier under U.S. command in World War II. Leones was in her 20s when she… Continue reading Reblog: Filipina Heroine
Pink Pink Pink Plunk Plunk Plunk Pink Pink Pink Shaking fingers, once-nimble joints are swollen Trembles too, the pianist’s frail white head, nodding to and fro His greatest works behind him Reputation firm Within, time’s tolling call, Eternal silence beckons. Fingers square on ivory keys Pink Pink Pink Plunk Plunk Plunk Pink Pink Pink <a href="http://Pink“>Pink Continue reading Daily Prompt: Pink
Tom had the cavernous C-130 cargo bay to himself. He wrapped a wool US-issue blanket around his shoulders and stretched out on the webbed jump seats to read. The low hum of the turboprop engines lulled him to sleep after a few paragraphs. He woke to the loadmaster shaking his shoulder. “Hey.” The crewman raised his voice over the sound of the engines. “We’re twenty … Continue reading George, Part I
After finishing the letter, Tom unpacked and showered. Refreshed and dressed – jeans, loose shirt, flip-flops, and sunglasses, he stepped out of his room and walked to the lobby. A new desk clerk was on duty. He gave her his room key. She was beautiful, tall for a Thai woman. Her black, braided hair was wrapped around her head. She smiled at him. “Yes, sir?” “May … Continue reading Sasi Part I
“You’ll have to tell me how to make a gimlet.” Tom spoke from behind the bar as he opened the refrigerator. “I may have tasted one, but I’ve never made one.” He removed a pitcher of sangria and poured a glassful. “I think I’ll have sangria instead of beer.” “One part sweetened lime juice, four parts gin,” Sasi said. “Add a slice of lime too. No rocks. … Continue reading Sasi Part II
Chapter 2 of Anna Dobritt’s exciting Lenara Lenquil Adventures Trilogy! Continue reading Reblog: The Archivist– Lenara Lenquil Adventures– Chapter 2
Is she the one, Susanna? I do not know, Tomás You must know, Susanna. Why, Tomás? She makes me think of you. She is not me. I want you back, Susanna. I’m dead, Tomás. You died too soon. Yes. Why? Why? Tell me. It was my time to die. It isn’t fair. Life is not always fair. Sasi makes me feel the way you did. … Continue reading Susanna IX
Originally posted on The Writings of William C. Pennington:
I read music in your eyes, Delicate chorale filled your voice, The melody of your soul, Breathed hymn into my life; Each movement measured note by note, Dancing fingers played across my keys, ‘Twas not a symphony filled the silence, But a quartet caressing strings; Hosannas rose into the night, Angelic host proclaimed, Cantata filled my… Continue reading The Melody Of Your Soul
One day, close to tax-filing deadline, dad was sitting on the edge of his bed. He was sorting W-2 forms. There must have been twenty of them. Maybe more. Twenty jobs. Five children to feed and clothe. Dad was the ninth of ten kids. He was born in the middle of the depression. I never knew we were poor. Continue reading Rich
I love Anna’s ” Lenara Lenquil Adventures.” Have a look! Continue reading Reblog: The Archivist– Lenara Lenquil Adventures — Chapter 1, by Anna Dobritt
She looked for things. She looked for hours, days, sometimes weeks. When she found them, She reported to others. The others would take care of them. Sometimes, the others would tell her to destroy what she had found. But, she always found them. For thirty-seven years, she had looked for things, she and her crews. Her crews came and went, but she was always there, … Continue reading The Boneyard
Lying in the grass Jasmine and pine Gently, I stroke his soft, black fur Night shadows hide the gray muzzle A loon calls Stars twinkle steadily Continue reading Yoshi
Lines, creases, crinkles Wrinkles, crow’s feet Haunted eyes Joyless smile Emptiness and sorrow The wonder whys Regrets Mirror receives them all Graying hair, Bags Dark circles Neck once nuzzled by Lovers and babies Sagging skin Sinking heart Withering hopes Curse the years Look at me Look at me See? See? You are what you see See beauty See love See wonder Hold your head up … Continue reading Mirror
Cubism Angles Corners Planes Perspective Front Back Side Side Up Down Above Beneath Inside Outside Around Within Without Through Trans-dimensional Complex Permeable, Impenetrable Fixed, Moving Opaque, Transparent Open, Closed Masked, Unmasked Active, Still Lost, Alert Quiet Quiet Quiet Loving, Hurtful Laughing, Crying Frowning, Smiling Joyful, Sad Gloomy, Gleeful Ecstatic, Pained Tears joyful Tears hurtful Tears sad Tears Tears Tears Tears Tears Smiling Loving Angry Loving … Continue reading Cubism
When she ailed Dependent child, you Moved back home To care for her Free room and board But doomed to toil O woe is me You cried and sighed O poor dear child My helpful soul, She prayed your aid Was not in vain I’m sorry Child Should I linger Lest your burdens grow In toil for me. O woe is me You cried and … Continue reading O Woe
bless / witness i am blessed to bear witness to these moments when my students unravel themselves before me. whether consciously or as a result of their playful, unconscious instinct – they douse me with their light spirit, momentary fears, their honesty. my wonder is unceasing as they tap dance around me with their whole hearted purity and […] via bless / witness — The Sea … Continue reading Reblog from The Sea Berry
She dances without moving Sails billow without wind Cannons, crossed, are silent Ship’s anchor is aweigh Inked in black, his life Forever tattooed in my mind. Continue reading The Sailor
A poetry site rejected seven poems I submitted for consideration. The editor thanked me for submitting my work and remarked that “It was a pleasure to read. However, we regret to say that it doesn’t quite fit our daily menu.” Ouch. Seven rejections with one salvo. The submission guidelines encouraged poets to send “your best work” since publishing space was tight. Ouch.Ouch.Ouch.Ouch.Ouch.Ouch.Ouch. Rejected AND repudiated. … Continue reading Rejected. Spurned. Snubbed. Repudiated.
Coffee in Style was kind enough to nominate me for The Blue Sky Tag! What a cool and thoughtful thing to do! Thank you Coffee in Style 🙂 The Blue Sky Tag is where the participating blogger does the following in a blog post: Thank the person who tagged you Answer their 11 questions Tag 11 people Give them 11 questions to answer Coffee in Style’s … Continue reading The Blue Sky Tag
If I don’t miss a part of you you are not apart from me. Continue reading I Can’t Breathe When You Are Away
The Writings of William C. Pennington 