“What are you doing?” She could see what he was doing, of course: He was sitting in an easy chair, staring at the spot up across the room where the light green paint of the wall met the white of the ceiling. He had a blank page in his lap and a pen in hisContinue reading “I Meta Writer”
The day began in clarity. “Good morning, world! Thank you for the rest,” he cried. “You know who I am; I know who I am. I’m glad we had this chat; let’s get down to business.” Harmonies poured from his soul — answers snapped to his fingers — his mind and body answered the call.Continue reading “A brief conversation with Almighty God”
I’ve been writing to myself, “Today I’m going to stop procrastinating and get it done,” for so long that I laugh at myself every time I write it. I am the king of procrastinators. Which is greater, my fear of living or my fear of procrastinating into the grave? Wait, what was that book IContinue reading “Tired of being afraid? Yeah, me, too”
I am approaching the end of another journal; this one has taken something more than just two months to fill, and I looked back to the early pages to find something I’ve already shared that bears repeating: “Add to the beauty or add to the despair — each of us has two choices — moreContinue reading “Add to the beauty”
Does it become a poem whenI place the words just so ? Does poetry dependupon spaces andreturns? I hear poetry in an autumn breeze even if I describe it in a short paragraph, taking up all of the space between the margins. Is itany lesspoetryfor the margins?
It’s written in the biggest letters of all the tiny signs around my writing station: HAVE FUN. Because I know it’s the most important message to myself. If the writing isn’t fun, it’s harder. The easiest writing is when your heart of hearts is bouncing with glee, the story is pouring out of your fingersContinue reading “The secret place where stories are made”