Hearses and Other Distractions
As a child, I was terrified of two things: death and fire. I also grew up in a family that sang “The Hearse Song” at meals. Consequently, while most kids were on the lookout for punch buggies, I was on…
As a child, I was terrified of two things: death and fire. I also grew up in a family that sang “The Hearse Song” at meals. Consequently, while most kids were on the lookout for punch buggies, I was on…
My farm is a novel that writes itself over and over, year after year, always with a similar story arc: I plant, I tend, things go wrong, bugs invade. I fend off crows and raccoons. I pray for rain. I…
My wife called me over to the garage and pointed down to a piece of machinery the size of a fist. “I think it fell out of the car,” she said. The metal thingamajig was pointy on one end and…
I’m in my last week of Camp NaNoWriMo, a summer version of November NaNoWriMo in which you get to set your own word count goals and bunk in a virtual cabin with other writers. I wish I could say I…
I come from a long line of liars. My grandfather, a Russian potato farmer, was conscripted into the army in World War I to serve on the eastern front. Most of the soldiers couldn’t read or write, but my grandfather…
By Guest Contributor Anonymous Hi. I’m writing this blog post at work. A few months ago, I revised the final draft of my first novel right here at my desk, and since then, I’ve been writing short stories, drafting novel…