Junk Shops

Dammit. I can’t find that post. I searched the blog for flea market, junk and vendor. No luck. No patience either. I want to write, not browse someone else’s blog looking for a post I might never find. I read it during my transition phase, shortly after I attended the West Virginia writer’s workshop. I … Continue reading Junk Shops

Hrurh

I don’t check my pulse; I don’t check my blood pressure. I sit with a tight chest, constricted lungs, rigid, like they might crack if I breathe too deeply. I woke today with a headache. I went to bed last night with the same headache. I made no progress over night. I worried when I … Continue reading Hrurh

A New Day

It’s a million pounds of marble. It sits like a boulderor a bomb-sheltertwo blocks from the Square,which is what we call the town center even though it’s a circle.Past the comic book storeand the candy shopand the place that sellsexpensive shoes from Sweden,the century-old Federal Buildinglooms on the left shamingevery other property on the street. … Continue reading A New Day

Puzzles

Horse puzzles, she loved them. Early on, she worked a twenty-four-piece wooden job by Mellissa & Doug. A country scene, brightly colored—a horse-drawn apple cart, a big red barn, bright green trees and a yellow hay bale. A Clydesdale effortlessly pulls the cart to market. She dumped the puzzle on the carpet and stirred the … Continue reading Puzzles

Redux

Blog stats: Ring Dings—six page views today. Published five years ago, suddenly it’s viral. Practically viral, at least for me. Did somebody email out the URL? Maybe it’s the “MORE ON WORDPRESS” recommendation at the bottom of somebody’s post. I wish I used better analytics. I’d like to know where the readers come from. Did … Continue reading Redux

Brushing

Facebook message from Mary: Jeff, I feel an urge to write. Can you help me or recommend someone else who can? She recently lost someone—a shocking, heart-wrenching, premature death. Writing helps corral her thoughts. Flattering. Mary thinks I’m a writer. I responded with an email: I'm happy to pass on what I know—the basics. Here … Continue reading Brushing

Judgement

Who's that trip-trapping over my bridge?   -- From the Three Billy Goat's Gruff (a Norwegian folktale) Do you watch your stats? I do. As much as I’d like to ‘write for myself’—something bloggers always suggest whenever I bring up the topic of blog stats—I spend too much time worrying about what others think. I look … Continue reading Judgement

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