What began in fellowship of open arms, broad smiles and welcoming words soon fell into routine. The wonder of the inchworm’s humped-back crawl faded as attention drifted elsewhere. Like a prairie dog village, heads sank into oblivious existence as curiosity waned. \ I could not describe the Bavarian village, framed by towering Alpine mountains and last seen as a child, well-enough so you’d know it … Continue reading The Filing Cabinet. And a Poem
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?
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
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
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
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
This article by Nathan Bransford describes the difference between Commercial, or Mainstream, Fiction and Literary Fiction. There are dozens of articles devoted to the differences between the main genres of fiction, but Nathan’s unique definition makes it clear enough to understand. I think a lot of writers believe “literary” means smarter or intellectual. Maybe so. It may be tempting for some writers to use the thesaurus … Continue reading On Writing: What Makes Literary Fiction Literary? By Nathan Bransford
I come to Fox Island to meditate, to reflect, to gaze across the sea until the hypnotic sound and motion of sea and wind and crashing wave become a lyric in the song of the universe. The worldly presence of the granite beneath my bottom, the salt air, and the pungent odor of decaying sea-wrack give way to the etheriality of thought and I wander … Continue reading Rebirth
I feel so much satisfaction watching the word count grow in the little story flowing from my pen. This joyful enterprise, this crafting of a universe built from memories of a lifetime. This imaginary world I have peopled with those I’ve grown up with, played, schooled, worshiped, worked, and served with. Decorated with scenes that have thrilled my eyes and my mind and lifted my … Continue reading My Little Story
I knew you had something on your mind When you had nothing much to say; When you spoke I could feel the worry, You nearly lost your way; I read the breath between your words For what I hoped I wouldn’t find; There’s always something left unsaid When we’re trying not to be unkind. I searched the places in your head Where you run from … Continue reading The Breath Between Her Words
Swish, swish, swish, her tail sweeps the air, Shining eyes, she crouches there. Arcing high, the ball flies up, Leaping now, my flying pup. She takes the ball, prances ‘round, Twinkle toes, not earthbound. Come here, girl! but, oh, not she, Away, away, chase after me! Faster, farther, prancing still, She smiles at me, such a pill. Lets me near, then lies down, I come … Continue reading Mai Lee
Reposted from 2015 My mind is soothed by the sight of the sea, and the sound of her waves breaking upon the ancient, granite bones of this world. My skin is caressed with a blanket of fragrance laid upon me by the smells of the sea. The call of the deep tugs at my heart and beckons, “Listen to my voice.” I am terrified by … Continue reading The Sea and Me
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
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
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
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
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
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
The thought occurred to me a few minutes ago that I wouldn’t know how to respond if I were asked to describe myself in one sentence. Oprah: “Welcome Will, and congratulations on the publication of your Great American Novel, A Wished-For Love, debuting at number one on the NYT, LAT, ChiTrib, WSJ, Sing Sing, and Tampa Bay Voc. Tech High School Best Sellers Lists! What an … Continue reading In One Sentence
Two blogs that bring me great joy for their beautiful poetry and prose are Green Ink and A Short Conversation. Check them out when you need a break from writing and want to clear your head. I know you’ll find they go well with your morning coffee 🙂 Continue reading Two Blogs to Visit
Six years ago today, I registered on WordPress. How has my writing progressed? Well, let’s see. I joined my first writing group, Writers World on Facebook, in May 2014. I submitted a 500-word extract of my draft novel, Honey ko, for critique that same day. I sat back, confident that my writing would be nominated for acclaim and recognition. Hoo boy. Was I wrong. Although … Continue reading Happy Anniversary!
Nearly a year ago, I began submitting my novel, Honey Ko, to agents. In all, I queried about 65 agents, 24 of whom were kind enough to respond with a gentle “decline.” One agent’s response was so kind I imagined her typing my rejection while crying and feeling dreadful, just dreadful that she couldn’t represent me. I nearly responded with a “There, there. It’s okay. It’s … Continue reading Writing, and Phantom Stories
When I was in the Navy, I was stationed, among many other places, in Brunswick, Maine, and Barbers Point, Hawaii. At both duty stations, there were places overlooking the sea that I frequently visited to relax, take photos, and swim or scramble around the cliff faces. In Maine, that place was on Bailey Island at a place along the cliffs called The Giant’s Stairs. There … Continue reading The Satisfied Life
In the forest, I walked with my head down, It was easier so, ‘neath my burden; My boots were muddied and scuffed; An eyelet rode free on frayed lace. The winding path was hard-packed From years of heavy, burdened travel; Pebbles and stones ground-in and smoothed By soles, and the wind and the rain. The soil varied in color, Brown, black, and gray, and tan; Grass … Continue reading Each A Vignette Of Life
I’ve recently found two blogs I love. Carly Hood and Freed Thoughts write such wonderful prose and poetry that I look forward to waking up each day just to see if they’ve posted again. Please join me in visiting their sites and starting the day off with a smile and a sigh. Continue reading Two Blogs to Visit
Ummmmmmm that’s good coffee Continue reading Good Morning 🙂
The house I wrote of yesterday stayed with me all day; I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I had intended a completely different point, about how we tear people down much easier than we build them up – people we disagree with, for example. We’ll stand in line to pick people apart for their flaws and shortcomings, their tastes, their politics, their looks. … Continue reading Home. All of Them
The old, old house stands brooding, silent, empty, shuttered. Peeling paint, peeling memories, peeling years, decaying. Squeaking gate unhinged, cracked stone steps, black holes gape between them, Give way to wild rose and dandelions, crabgrass, spurge and apples. Skinned shins on broken porch boards; cobwebs make me shrink. Ancient knocker of green-tinged brass, dolphins dancing on their tails. Quiet the knocker, there’s no one home, … Continue reading Home. With me.
Take my hand. Walk with me. Lust, fleeting. The cocoon nurtures the butterfly before its wings may spread. Continue reading I Loved You, Before I knew You
Winter appears to have returned with a vengeance over the weekend. The high in Southern Maryland yesterday was forty-three degrees, and may reach thirty-four today. I’m not one to complain about the cold (except for a cold seat-of-ease; don’t they make heated ones?), and believe temperatures this cold should be accompanied by snow. My northern friends may cast eye darts at me, but I don’t … Continue reading Chilly Willy
I need to take up pen again, Let words flow From fingers Like blood flows From wounds. I need to let pen’s nib Bleed ink onto blank white sheet. Time Forms thought Forms words Forms phrases Informs life. Patience Crumpled paper litters my desk. The keyboard is that friend Who lives at work all day Watching feet rush back and forth. Continue reading Crumpled Paper
William Goodfellow was a man, not an animal. William dashed the hoe from his hands and stared at the earth packed beneath his torn fingernails. “This is madness. I am a man, not an animal,” he cried, and fled his field of corn and the blazing sun that burned his head. William’s farm animals howled and barked, and mooed and clucked in amazement, stamped their paws … Continue reading William Goodfellow
Writers Envy 