Category: about writing
-
Happy Home
We’ve built a happy home created the life we wanted the bubble that won’t pop the reality blissfully skewed to our liking With adopted children from the midsection cousins in far away places uncles and aunts and mothers and fathers from all those places we’ve never been Our family medicatedpoeticladygrin writers, conspirators, sympathizers, antagonists all…
-
Beneath the Bark: The Rooting of Uncle Tree
Over the course of the last two weeks or so, I have had the pleasure of being involved in a fantastic discussion about writing and living well. As interviews go, this one offers insight and sincerity, and I hope you, dear reader, appreciate the self-depricating wisdom of our very own Uncle Tree. #1. What made…
-
Bunny Dearest: A Love Child is Born
Bunny and I met recently through Bryan and we’ve fallen in love. He’s also our Asian love child, which has a little bit of an Oedipus-esque twist minus the shame and eyegauging, and I am happy to share the fruits of our love with all of my dear readers. I. From dearest Bunny Belletryst. Careful,…
-
The Taming of Paul Squires (gingatao)
Once again, I’ve asked a fantabulous writer and blogger some questions for those of us who are not “in the know” but would like to be. 1. Do you ever take a handful of raisins and eat them quickly because you suspect if you took time to really think about them, you might actually hate…
-
Draft
The first draft is the only one that matters Raw is reality Refined is bullshit Or so I say At times when I am being difficult. At times when I am being difficult I say Refined is bullshit Raw is reality The first draft is the only one that matters.
-
Suffering Writer’s Guilt
I wonder if you suffer, too writer’s guilt and all of that. To see gray-blue as a feeling never a hue.
-
Blessing
Bless her heart, Helen Keller thought she wrote that story of her own merit and creation something that sounded right right Bless your heart of course, it has a ring to it I wrote it Ring ring
-
Predator Poised to Strike
a sharpened pencil the way I like with nothing to say so I write my name over and over to soothe my compulsion and wayward way word mind a predator poised to strike with no prey no pray in sight insight incite