He survived Chickamauga, the war, and went West, swearing to never kill any man again—now, twenty-six years later, he’ll have to break his oath or die in in a sun-baked southwestern railstop.
Idle Musings from a Floored Mind…
Several million words per year hit my screen. Far, far fewer will ever hit yours, to include those words I throw at this log of events and other unconventionally-published meanderings of a strange organ locked in a bone cage.
Herman Melville based the original Great White—sorry, Jaws—the whale in Moby Dick, on a real incident and sinking. What of his family? Did the whale, too, want only revenge?
What follows is a reaction from a fictional teen girl. It is a song, or the lyrics to one, composed by Sarah Bronagh and Cole Miller as the Born Again fever ravages her body and mind…
Two years I fought my brother in the War—we’d of killed each other then. Could be we would now, meeting by letters sent: at the little plantation, a ruin now, burnt and sagging, and dead…
The novel I didn’t have any intention of writing—it without asking—brought the baggage of inspiration. One of the better ways to combat creative bursts is to put them out of mind…
A burst of 8,100 words and a week ago, a novel flopped into my head. Years later, it is unfinished, but it’s close. Closer. Here is how it all began for what became Sevenfold…
It is my habit to go to bed with a purpose. To sleep, being one. But before I sleep, I make a concentrated effort to focus on two principles that have — later — put more words on paper than I often do sitting in front of a keyboard. First, I clear my mind of […] Read More