Monthly Archives: January 2021

Threadbare Rabbit

How silly, having kept bunny, how overly sentimental. An old, stuffed rabbit, stitched and mended, the fabric loved until threadbare and thin. Oh bunny, never forgotten, poor flattened rabbit. Two small hands in size —just right for a child’s grasp, … Continue reading

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Reading Your Work: See it, Be it, Live it, Say it

At least at some point when editing, read your work in progress aloud. That’s common wisdom, excellent wisdom. For my part, though, it’s incomplete. All prose isn’t the same. Take this blog post, for instance. I draft on Tuesday, edit … Continue reading

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Beyond the Stars

She gazed at the sky, beyond the stars, more than emptiness, more than who we are. Maybe the darkness was her mind, what she put there was her defined. What she gathered, what she kept, her responsibility… what a concept. … Continue reading

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Riparia

A child of the riverbank, of the river, the Sentinel, it was called. In a child’s mind there was no time, but time there was to learn to climb, and so she did, scaling the rock along the water’s edge. … Continue reading

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2021: Editing, Worldbuilding, and Maybe More

These are uncertain times, but my purpose in 2021 is anything but uncertain. That purpose includes editing and catching up on the worldbuilding I’ve ignored for too long. Apply myself and I’ll be that much closer to publication. The General … Continue reading

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Wrapped in the Velvet of Her Soul

She wasn’t what she seemed, she was that place where dreams went when they required a key, far away, yet, beneath a gentle touch amidst her heart’s glow, transformed, wrapped in the velvet of her soul. She’d become what she … Continue reading

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In Our Time

What should be right has left. What remains isn’t right. We search for truth while some cast us blind. The hating few must not stand with time. So, let history recall we knew what was right. Equality for all, the … Continue reading

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In Defense of Editing

In high school, oh how I detested editing, though then it always included rewriting. There were no laptops and desktops. I had an old manual typewriter, all my school papers had to be written by hand. Thus was my dislike … Continue reading

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Walls

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Writing Hope

Tears on a page, her eyes resting, having found peace. Was there anyone, in a world embracing shadows, who desired hopeful words? Wasn’t it the age with an insatiable thirst for hopelessness? Maybe, the story told her, that was her … Continue reading

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