everybody loves a parade Our house is a jumble of boxes, papers are everywhere, artwork has come down and rests against walls, laundry is piled high. The fridge and pantry are empty mainly, and shall stay that way at this point. I've spent hours on the phone and online doing the things one does, cancelling … Continue reading This Is How a New Chapter Begins
Writing
Sunday Serendipity: I Show My Hand
ostensible planter of daffodil bulbs Last weekend I went in search of some historical documents, any I could find, for a young cousin doing some research on our family genealogy. I didn't turn up much that will be helpful insofar as the particular thing she was looking for. But I did come across an envelope … Continue reading Sunday Serendipity: I Show My Hand
The Coming-of-Age Story of Stories: Oh, Harper
Harper Lee and Truman Capote; New York Public Library Digital Collection Early this morning I finally opened the pages of my beautiful 1993 edition of To Kill A Mockingbird, the one Chef David so lovingly sought and then finally found in hardcover and gifted to me this past Christmas. It has been stacked atop the … Continue reading The Coming-of-Age Story of Stories: Oh, Harper
Advice for Job-Seeking SEO Copywriters
Yesterday I put on my professional writing cap and posted this piece over on LinkedIn. It's chock-full of advice for any SEO copywriter seeking work right now; please have a read if this describes you.
Evening Miniature 2.7.21
Cecily returned home after a long day in the service of others, thoroughly spent and ready for it to end, but the faintest streak of pinkish-azure light lingered on the western horizon still, almost mockingly; she could not appreciate the beauty of the moment in her tired-out condition. Later on, she would slide down into … Continue reading Evening Miniature 2.7.21
Evening Miniature 1.3.21
How peculiar the small things one remembers from an important or somber occasion, years or decades later. Cecily had long reflected on this curiosity in the intervening years between her father Cecil’s funeral and now, at age twenty-three. She had been thirteen at the time, mindful enough of the goings-on around her, impelled forward by … Continue reading Evening Miniature 1.3.21
Evening Miniature 11.22.20
The darkness would have compelled any visitor to stand quietly for a moment and adjust to it before finally getting his bearings, after crossing the threshold of this cottage, if it were only just: More precisely, this was but a room of four rough-hewn paneled walls, unfinished, with a shed-style roof fashioned of standing-seam metal, … Continue reading Evening Miniature 11.22.20
Afternoon Miniature 11.8.20
Lucy tugged at her skirt, which had ridden up over her bent knees in a funny way, and now its satiny lining had shifted, allowing the wool fibers to rub her skin uncomfortably. Her head swam with obtuse and acute angles, theorems and axioms. She glanced down at her open notebook and saw where her … Continue reading Afternoon Miniature 11.8.20
Afternoon Miniature 10.25.20
The ancient truck’s open hood concealed her from the waist up as she bent over its engine; she rose a little onto her toes to get a better look at something shadowy and undefined. Try again now, she hollered to nobody in the cab, but all that happened was nothing, only the obstinate click-click-click of … Continue reading Afternoon Miniature 10.25.20
Talent—or Time? Searching for the Special Sauce
I keep on plugging away at classical guitar, resurrecting this discipline I haven’t studied in so many long years. I’ve more or less worked my way through the book that was my introduction to playing, compiled and composed by one Christopher Parkening, and have moved on to some slightly more intermediate-level exercises and pieces. This … Continue reading Talent—or Time? Searching for the Special Sauce
Sycamore Stories 