My little sister hung onto her handlebars with their streaming ribbons. "Maddie, it's fine. It's just an old house." A window shutter slapped the siding, making both of us jump. Maddie worried gaze begged me to lead us down the street and closer to home. "It's just the wind." The afternoon sun gradually dimmed to its rosy dusk color. "Sure it is, Howie."
“These are people,” I replied. I felt suffocated as we stood over the whole wedding reception. Surely Trent listened in somewhere. Kass’s lip twitched then she raised her champagne glass until the bubbly drink disappeared. “Half-people, my dear,” Kass said, hand her glass flute to a passing waiter. “They’re half-human.”
"You never thought about moving?" "And leave this view? Screwdriver." "Huh?" "Screwdriver. Please." "Shane, how many boards do we need?" "As many as this boat gives us."
Fred, just turned nineteen, gripped his rifle tight against his chest. Soot and dirt caked his face, giving him an ashen mask over his pasty, Irish skin. His throat hummed but his lips trembled and chopped up the melodic breathing.
Procrastination and an impromptu list on why I love writing to get me out of this recent funk.
My mother told me to stay on our side of the yard. Every time I came to visit, after moving out and starting my own family, Mom said that I needed to say on our side of the yard.
These are my raw thoughts this week. This is a part of the creative process. You have personal rough patches. Acknowledge them, feel them, but power through. It will be worth it soon enough.
SNL creator and producer Lorne Michaels famously said, "The show doesn't go on because it's ready; it goes on because it's 11:30." Recently I've been living by this motto more.
As I move forward with my first novel, I go with the motivation of a mental halfway mark. I'm reminded of nights in my dorm room, hammering out pages of fiction for classes that week, and being happy. I listened to my younger self, who said he wanted to be an author and an actor, and here I am at 23, actively chasing it.
"So, Linus, what do you do for a living?" I'd been here a thousand times, knowing that this potential relationship was already doomed. So, I decided to have fun with it. "I'm a freelancer. Kind of between jobs." She sipped her champagne. Her eyebrows leapt with a feigned spark of intrigue.