Tag: creative writing

If I Had a Dragon

If you could pick any fictional animal to be your lifelong companion, what would it be?

If I had a dragon

I would fly far over the horizon

I would ascend in the sky with my trusty companion

Spiral through the clouds and scream all the way down.

But I know my friend would never let me hit the ground

Nor so much as nick a knee or elbow

We would visit far off places high and low

Sample the cuisine, visit museums and parks

(If my friend could fit, at least)

And together engage in fun and funny larks

And though dragons are not real

A boy can still dream.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

My Favorite Time of the Year

Autumn is my favorite time of the year. A liminal season between hot and cold, when everything is just right.

The days aren’t too dark nor too bright, the winds are cool but not frosty, the trees’ leaves turn to gold and carpet the ground in beauty.

Autumn is a time of thanks for the bounty of summer, a gentle time preceding the harshness of winter, a reminder that spring will soon follow.

Autumn is a time of rain showers that wash away the fervid air of a season of wildfires and smoke, bringing water to refresh thirsty nature.

Autumn is good. It is my favorite time of the year.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

How Writing a Novel is Like Cooking a Breakfast Scramble

Breakfast scrambles are really good, aren’t they? You cook upsome eggs, toss in some sausage, cheese, maybe green peppers, some onions and hashbrowns. Whatever’s lying around, whatever you’ve tried before that tasted good, gets thrown in the pan and mixed together. Delicious.

I’ve realized that writing a novel kind of works the same way. You take what you’ve learned from past writing attempts, all your successes in storytelling, your lessons in grammar and pacing, and then you throw in bits and pieces from your own life: Childhood memories, friends, strangers, events and images that left a lasting impression, a random trivia fact you read in a book five years ago. There are so many things I draw from for inspiration and guidance when writing. And I throw them onto the page together and voila! I have a novel.

Of course, breakfast scrambles don’t require revisions. Novels require more drafting and a bit more seasoning, if you will, then a one-and-done meal. But both work by combining disparate elements into a cohesive whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. Both also involve a great deal more improvisation than one might expect. Indeed, for all my planning and forethought, I often find that writing is more chaotic than anything that occurs in the kitchen. Food is much more predictable than words. At least when you’re cooking an egg you know what the end result will be. Stories always surprise.

Better, I suppose, than the other way around.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Them Tasty Mushroom Burgers

What do you love now, that you hated when you were younger?

How appropriate that as the U.S.A.’s July 4th celebration rapidly approaches, I put up a post about burgers.

Actually, not about burgers in general. Mushroom burgers, specifically, and how they changed my mind about mushrooms.

You see, as a kid, I hated mushrooms. I didn’t want anything to do with them, and they certainly shouldn’t go in my mouth. I, a boy whose age wasn’t even in the double digits, confidently declared that I wouldn’t eat a mushroom until I was 50 years old.

I didn’t last that long.

You see, from what I can recall, I gave in to the savory deliciousness of mushrooms around the time that my dad started taking me to the local Red Robin burger restaurant. It was a tradition. We’d go see the latest blockbuster on a Saturday morning, and afterwards we’d go to Red Robin for lunch. For some reason, one day I ordered the mushroom burger and realized that mushrooms are really, really tasty.

I like mushrooms now. I like them on sandwiches, I like them in salads, I like them every which way, because they are, in fact, not as bad as 8-year-old me thought they were. Which will teach 8-year-old me to make bold lifelong declarations before he has all the facts.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Those Midweek Blues

How about those midweek blues?

We all know Monday, but this is something else.

Week’s half done, but eyes down, soul depressed.

Where’d that come from? What to do?

Got to buck up, chin up, pull yourself together.

Have to knuckle down and push on through.

Grit your teeth and gird yourself and

Push through those midweek blues

Are You Not Entertained?

What’s something people take too seriously in life?

Dated references to old films aside, today’s title refers to something I commonly observe in society. We take our entertainment very seriously. Extremely seriously. As in “Do you find this even remotely relaxing or fulfilling anymore?” seriously.

Take sports, for instance. Theoretically, sports are a form of recreation that allow us to challenge ourselves and take pleasure in pushing our bodies and minds, or, if not an athlete, to enjoy watching our favorite teams compete and experience the thrill of victory and near-defeat. It’s supposed to be fun, right?

So, why do people scream and tear out their hair and beat up other people who don’t support their own team? Why do people riot and curse and weep over what their favorite player eats for breakfast? It’s … not just a game, anymore, is it?

In fact, a quick jaunt through the Youtube comments section (horrors of horrors …) on just about any subject that supposedly falls under the category of “entertainment” yields insight into a curious phenomenon: Nobody seems to hate any given activity, hobby or franchise more than its own fandom. Fans are very grumpy characters, seemingly more entranced by how [insert subject here] has been ruined forever than taking any sort of joy in it.

Entertainment must be a very fragile thing if it takes so little to destroy it. Perhaps we humans are entitled creatures, believing that a movie or video game or sports team or car brand is only “fun” when it conforms exactly and perfectly to our own specific expectations. On an individual basis. And when it doesn’t, well …

I get irked sometimes when a favorite franchise takes a turn I don’t like. I try not to take it too seriously, if only because I have a tendency to brood over the silliest details and really don’t need anything else competing for that brooding space in my head. Life’s short. Why not just … be entertained?

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

Meeting Mister Fox

So I’m walking down the street in the early dawn

And who should I meet but a cocky fox sitting on a lawn.

I ask him what he’s doing there, carefree as can be

And he replies, “I belong. This is my territory.”

I smile and shrug and wave goodbye and carry on my way.

Maybe I’ll see him again sometime, if meet him again I may.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life. Sometimes, I dabble in poetry.

Five Happy Things

Five things that make me feel happy every day:

  1. The sound of songbirds in early morning
  2. The sight of squirrels running up a telephone pole
  3. The taste of cold water after a hard workout
  4. The feel of a warm shirt fresh out of the dryer
  5. The smell of fresh rain hitting the ground

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

Everyologist

When I was little, I wanted to be an “everyologist.” I would be an expert in everything – history and science and books and everything.

Little kids can be experts in everything, because everything is within easy reach.

I got older, and couldn’t do everything, so I decided I should focus on “most things.”

Then I got a bit more older, and decided I should focus on “the most important things.”

But I still dabble in everyology on the side.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

Tattoos are Not For Me

Tattoos are not for me, and though I admire their artistry

My body would not make for a good tapestry

Colorful patterns, curving lines and creatures

Would look poorly on my shape

Good tattoos depend on anatomy most fine

And limbs and torsos that gracefully align

For if the body should expand after the tattoo is drawn

The artistry would be a mocking jape

Tattoos, as well, involve a modicum of pain

Coming in for sharp sessions again and again

I am averse to such things and not partial to needles

So why endure something I hate?

And now you can see

Why tattoos are not for me.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“