The Liturgy of the Word
A flash memoir on loss and religion, this piece was originally published in the print edition of the 2012 edition of Headwaters, UNCA’s creative arts magazine.
Writing is a Long and Winding Road
All we can do is take Things day by day… I have a confession to make: I am a slow writer. Like snail’s pace slow. Like sloth-migration slow. Like glacier creating a lake bed in granite during the deepest depths of an ice age slow. I blame most of this literary sluggishness on the fact…
Islands of Healing and Isolation
When does the healing power of isolation become a punishment? As I write this, the sun is setting beyond the storm clouds of the Med. The sea is shadowed, restless and insistent — if I lean just right through my sickroom window, I can see it, the narrowest glimpse of the shore, the sea tearing…
Deathsong | Prologue
Before In the mornings, when the mistblooms brushed their lazy vines against her window and spread their leaves to catch the sun, she could look out from the highest tower of the House of Doors and see all of it spread out below her: the placid lagoon and the shedding trees and the steep, stone…
Are You Taking Your Writing Seriously?
Until we decide to take our writing seriously, it remains all too easy to dismiss our words…
The Wintertree
An exclusive prequel short story from the world of The Ravenscourt Tragedies for subscribers to my webfiction.
We Are Made to Bloom
And then there are the drifters, the wanderers, the ones that float away on wind and water… a fantasy short story.
