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At this point, what I did: I learned how to do things. I had experiences. Some sad. Some pure glory. …and future plans.
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Deer tracks, running the bridge, and olives in the enchiladas. We’ve been seeing deer tracks in the sand most mornings. Sometimes the prints just end as if the deer leapt forty feet east. A mystery, like the tracks in sand in Denzel Washington’s marvelous early film Mighty Quinn.
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A writer I know recently asked for opinions about sharing writing in public or with the public. It’s wonderful that writers share work. It’s extraordinarily helpful to have feedback and to use that to encourage further work in revision or something new. Pure glory to have our work well-received. My thoughts about sharing drafts begin…
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Today is the first day of October, and a lot is happening: The Portland Marathon [I am not running], sorting bins [yarn, stuff, and fabric], running, gallery show, and looking ahead.
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Three years ago, I thought if I could only run a mile, a complete mile, maybe semi-regularly… wouldn’t that be something! Then I did it. I ran a mile. I didn’t hurt or fall down or even feel sore the next day. Then that distance got easy and I tried a little further. Two miles.
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Bees, long hoped-for goals, the illusion of permanence, photographs of the shore. The shifting tides and movement of sand and stone shoved in and out by the ocean.
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Yes, I will count both fiction and review as two even though in the same publication. Issue 34:1 of CALYX Journal has gone to press and my story “The Promised Hour” is featured on the announcement page where you can read it. In the same issue is my review of the marvelous and award-winning short…
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It happened again. A deer in the surf and a dozen people crowding the shore. The last time, the deer drowned. This morning it’s an outgoing tide and I was repeatedly called a “b—” (and other things) for shouting “Back off!” at the top of my voice. I am so mean. [Have no fear reading…
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