Skating on Thin Ice: The Still Power of Water and Words

I used to skate – never on four wheels, but on silvery, knife-edged blades. I remember that first time, at a friend’s birthday party, clutching the red wooden rail around an old hockey rink with frozen, mittened fingers in a terrified death grip. I wanted so desperately to get off that solid block of frozen Read More …

Letting Go of 2016, Anticipating 2017

Adieu, 2016 “As we get ready for a new year, it’s always good to remember where we’ve been.” Or maybe we need to say to ourselves, “Don’t look back. Let it go. Focus on the future.” I will say this: Like most years before it, 2016 has been unusual, challenging, crazy-making, and bittersweet, interspersed with Read More …

Hike WHO? Oh, Haiku!

It’s a wonder the Japanese haven’t squished us with the giant flyswatter of disdain for grossly oversimplifying haiku. “Oh, it’s easy! Just three lines. First line’s got five syllables, next has seven, last one’s got five. See? Anyone can write haiku.” Cultural appropriation at its worst, if you ask me. Rarely is it mentioned to Read More …

Falling Leaves and Water

Just for fun, I signed up for WordPress University’s “Writing: Intro to Poetry.” Of course, if you’re expecting me to follow the lessons like an obedient little student, writing, as the first assignment suggests, a “haiku about water,” then you don’t know me at all. Poke around this blog a bit… In all fairness, it’s Read More …

Coloring Creativity into Blogging

What the heck does coloring have to do with creativity in blogging, or enhancing your creativity as a blogger? I’m talking about grown-ups grabbing a box of Crayola Crayons and going to town on a more intricate, adult version of a coloring book. How do you color creativity into blogging? There are a number of Read More …

Rebellion and Revenge

Emmett and I took turns at the helm, just for fun. In truth, the Bonny Anapest could steer herself, but we sang sea chanteys loud enough to raise Davey Jones and drank rum and and pretended to be pirates as we rode the cresting thermals of a line of training thunderstorms, imagining the distant roll Read More …

The Power of Imagination and Words

It’s not every day you see a royal blue call box sporting a mast and sails. “Well, aren’t you lovely?” I whispered as she proudly unfurled her flag. It wasn’t one I recognized; I’d expected a Jolly Roger, but this was gold flame and purple smoke on a field of crimson, and unlike any flag Read More …

Why Me?

“Should we tell her?” “She’ll figure it out, soon enough.” I overheard them whispering while I tried desperately to shed the futility of fifty-thousand thousand words in an afternoon. I’d seen it done, once or twice; instead of giving me hope, the knowledge that it was possible only heaped a larger dollop of inadequacy on Read More …

Drunk on Freedom, Dancing with the Jinn

NaBloPoMo. NaNoWriMo. NaNoBloWriPoMo… “There’s just no redeeming this month, is there?” I asked Emmett, dejectedly. “Sure there is,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. He emerged from my kitchen bearing a large Mason jar full of freshly-squeezed pineapple juice. “Where did you get that?” I asked. I hadn’t bought pineapples or juice in a while. Read More …

There’s No Place Like 127.0.0.1

“Come on, Emmett, let’s go home.” New Orleans, bright and colorful and smelling of beignets and stale booze and coffee, now seemed soured and sinister. “You don’t want to explore the city while we’re here? It’s strange how much – and how little – has changed.” Emmett’s gaze traveled 360 degrees to take in all Read More …

Like Sand Through the Motherboard

As we walked the streets of the French Quarter, I continued to ponder the plot, idly wondering which of Grimm’s fairy tales I was living. Perhaps I wasn’t living; perhaps I’d fallen, hit my head, and was somewhere hooked up to life support… I struggled to keep up with Emmett’s longer stride, and realized that if Read More …

Like Fireflies in a Pickle Jar

“What the hell just happened back there?” I asked. “You two have a history, don’t you? How’d I get dragged into this? Talk to me, Emmett, or I swear to God I’ll hire a car, drive back to Houston, and leave you here.” The old woman had kicked us out of the courtyard after foisting Read More …