Bricks

They gathered outside the Ugly Mug, I saw them when I drove by—smiling, laughing, relaxed. Radiating a glow only possible after a long run on a cool morning. Content. Gettysburg has three coffee shops, the good one, the popular one and Starbucks. I use Starbucks, or I did before the pandemic. I broke that habit; … Continue reading Bricks

I Can Ride That

I stress about what I write. Not the topics, but the word count, the frequency, the quality. I lie—I stress about the topics, too. I joined a writers' group on Facebook—Authors with Tourette Syndrome. “Authors.” Stretching? Aspirational? I'm more comfortable with the generic term writer. Author implies output, something published. That's not me, barely. I … Continue reading I Can Ride That

Book Launch

In January, I posted The Routine, a flash piece illustrating my teenage struggle with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I initially wrote it a few years ago, but in January I gave it a heavy edit and submitted it to Through the Looking Glass: Reflecting on Madness and Chaos Within, an anthology of short nonfiction and poetry … Continue reading Book Launch