Harry likes the freedom of the road, and the freedom to play his games miles away from Linda and arguments about D-I-Y. He likes overnighting…
Writing And Media
Fan fun with Game of Thrones character meeting the lead character in the Gastar novellas… House of Black and White. For a place of such mystery, it wasn’t really guarded and had almost nothing inside.
About every hour she’d hear a blood curdling scream of something terrible outside; it could be anything. Zermon tortured demons often, some escaped, most were captured and tortured again.
Wanna see the healing power of music? Sign-on as a part-time caregiver for elderly clients. Bring your smart phone, tap the Pandora ap..
Haiku: End Of May… some Saiga Antelopes die… May has lost … Saigas! Days of sunshine, thunderstorms, June’s sweet buds beckon..
On Wednesday, a group of bloggers and our guests were treated to an evening of cocktails, candy, hors d’oeuvres and a preview of the new movie HOT PURSUIT…
In July this year I will be involved in two different group exhibitions. The first of these will be at ShoreThyme gallery from the 7th to the 19th of July. This exhibition will be a retrospective look at…
I wake to the quiet—a split of time held in smoky purity …but then a thought imposes–a heavy tsk-tsk that makes my head bow and my stomach curl. It’s a call to suffering, a shift towards fear…
Whenever someone tells me that they enjoyed reading a book, I always ask if they contacted the author to tell them what it was they liked about it.
The ties that bound me were severed so long ago, I have forgotten why. The cold seeps into my bones, forming a brittle frost. The gnawing emptiness in my stomach would…
Who actually decides how movies are rated? How do they know who should watch what and the type of effect it would have on them?
Stella took the subway. Seeking the protection of strangers, she slowly made her way through the crowd. People grew restless as the train approached
I thought I’d climb a castle’s tower, and punctuate through guarded clouds, favored with the highest views, through secret doors concealed from crowds.
Laine Cunningham, author, professional editor, and winner of five international awards for fiction and nonfiction, took the time to interview me about the writing of my novel, Cosette’s Tribe.
As an art professor, my job included exposing students to various art techniques so they could choose the one best suited to what they wished to express.
While prowling through my files, I came across a few more pen & ink caricatures. This time I thought it might be fun to have you guess who these folks are.
Fairies danced here once. My sister, cousin and I watched them at twilight as they danced about in the clover, their flimsy wings translucent and dotted with pale colours.
I first met Claire and Helena through the flash fiction site ‘Friday Fictioneers‘ and I’m so pleased that I did. Their writing, though very different is quite brilliant.
You make fun of how I look
Of how I speak and move
You laugh out loud, make snide remarks
My ‘stupidness’ to prove
Have you ever created found poetry? This one got me thinking about how we are all connected to this place we call home.
The juiciest blackberries grew alongside the tracks, with a sick husband and five children to feed, Anna happily accepted nature’s help.
I’m wrapping up the week of Writing 201: Poetry by completing the remaining assignments in this post. It’s been quite the exhilarating journey and nothing gives me more joy than to exercise my brain creating some poetry.
I’m sure Sheriff Andy Taylor was at the malt shop teaching manners and lessons in civility to kids, and I’m sure I saw Gomer and Floyd walking around.
Her leather portfolio bought with birthday money, stuffed with photos so lovingly captured by Charlie, began to look scruffy as it was pawed over and scrutinised by agent after agent.
There is grace around us all; we just have to open the door to receive it. It comes in many ways and to each of us, it is a unique experience.
When I was thirteen I went with my dad to fetch a pizza from a place up the highway. It was hot in the pizzeria because of the huge oven so I went outside to cool off.
It’s funny how some stories just jump into your head and almost write themselves. That’s what happened when I saw the prompt for this week.
Mrs. Chatterbox and I have been married a long time, and like most couples in lengthy relationships we’ve given each other many gifts.
John stepped back into the water trough one more time.
‘I hate bloody DIY! And why soak the paper? What’s wrong with old fashioned wallpaper paste?’
This is either another skirmish in the war between men and women, or another example of what a bad person I am. You decide. Books have been written about the differences between men and women, such as Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus. A recent occurrence in the Chatterbox household illustrates this difference […]