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Getting away …
Next door is a guy with a saw. Its voice cutting through metal sometimes comes through the wall. Mostly, not. His name is Shane, the guy. “Like the movie,” he said, when we…
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A magic moment during an artsy mood encounter
Most of my creative energy flows into writing. That river branches into a visual stream. For most of my life, I’ve kept a file of ideas for physical art that came to me…
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I am that which I decry
Right before I typed these words, I paused the podcast episode of 70 Over 70 focused on the writer Russell Banks, 81 at the time of the interview. Before I thought I should…
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What’s wrong with self-publishing, anyway?
Yesterday, in the middle of the Columbia River, on a windsurf rig being buffeted by gusts of more than 30 mph, I had the oddest thought: Why is it that I persist in…
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A car covered in stickers is a person wanting to be known
We were driving north from Portland toward Tacoma today, when we passed a small import. Maybe a Toyota Yaris. Not sure, because the car was blanketed in stickers. At 75 mph, and hands…
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When Is a Short Story Short Enough?
Trigger warning: This post has a lot of words about writing of few words. I had no desire to write mega maxi micro fiction. Lately, I find myself doing just that. Thank you,…