My dear old Dad will be voting Democrat for the first time ever next week: He passed away in July. Dark humor, I know (Well, I laughed anyway), but it’s my contribution to the real problem about so-called election interference. A county clerk said last week that she participated in a briefing with high-level securityContinue reading “The dead don’t vote”
Anyhow, here we are. 4:50 p.m. Calm water over there, evergreen woods behind me, picnic table in front. And, as often happens when I try to write, I’m tired (because usually I’m writing in this thing around 4:50 a.m.). I neutered my iPhone the other day, in hopes of clearing enough space to enable aContinue reading “Journal entry after exiling social media”
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”
In an easy chair by the window on Mars, the man sits and writes, contemplating the various choices that brought him to this moment, this chair, this home, this planet.
The blog prior to July 1, 2020, can be found at https://wpbluhm.wordpress.com/ — or click the smiling face.