The American Midwest is a flat, dry landscape offset by the occasional farm or tree line border between properties. Speed limit signs decorate the interstate as the lane lines stretch on for infinity. You can see the stars at night. Voluminous clouds skate through the expansive sky during the day. Now, we travel in enclosed metal caravans like our pioneering ancestors before us. Only now, instead of pilgrimaging to a new life, we’re traveling to visit Aunt June or compete in a regional softball tournament.
I write because I want to be remembered. I want to tell grand stories that connect with a wide audience of readers.
A coffee mug left half-finished on the kitchen table tells about someone’s interrupted morning routine. A broken picture frame in the garbage can, with its jingling shards of glass, holds the story of an angry wife finding out about her husband’s affair. One would notice that only the frame is in the garbage; … Continue reading Ugh: Stories from the Zombie Apocalypse – A Review
Originally written in December 2013 In the fall and winter, when it wasn’t nice enough to play outside, Mitch and I made our own amusement. We’d set up base on top of the wooden stairs in our tri-level home. Thirteen steps. The same unforgiving number that disabled our mother after slipping and falling down them. … Continue reading Stair Masters