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Embers of Burnout, Flames from Earth
Join us unencumbered across the arm of space and the reach of the ages. Let us consider together our hurts, our hopes, and our dreams, despite the distance, and encourage each other to sustain the embers of life.
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A bit of author journey and a smidge of aging humor
I’m traveling today with my son Ben to the American Christian Fiction Writers’ National Convention in New Orleans. My hat’s in the ring there for a First Fifteen Pages contest for unpublished authors.
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Publishing, Parachuting, and Three Lincolns
In the early 1990s, I was the best man for my brother’s wedding. For his bachelor party, we didn’t want to do anything immoral, so we decided to try something dangerous, instead: parachuting. My wife made me promise never to do it again. There would be three commands: get out, get all the way out…
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Horse Sense
Dear Reader, how I treasure your sticking with me on the road to publication. I learned this month I’m a semi-finalist in the Genesis Contest for unpublished authors. How delightful to receive an evening phone call from a contest organizer. (They don’t call you when you lose!)
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Resurrection
Dear Reader, I have missed you. The twin sisters of winter, Cold and Darkness, sneaked up on me last December with their claws. Now I find myself emerging, like a crocus from the ground, renewed with hope, a participant in the rising fragrance of spring.
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Day 90 on the Gravanok
It’s been three months today since we set sail with Captain TAT. The boys-a are becoming men-ya. There have been no fistfights in over a week, and we’ve had no deaths, despite the two who went overboard in shark-filled waters.
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The Coiling Snake of Tension Headache
I am Theseus. How long I’ve been in the Underground I cannot say. Already I have lost my way. The muscles in my back have become like knotted ropes. Sleep eludes me.
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Theseus Descending
There must be 101 ways to hurt. All of them are rotten. Some of them change us. Even tiny things can pack a wallop. Consider these five: a hornet sting on the hand; a scratch across the eye; a kidney stone on its journey; a gout flare in the toe; and a burned finger on…
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A Song for Sammie
I’m searching for somebody—the person I can help the most through my writing. I don’t know her real name, because she’s a private person, but sometimes I call her Suffering Sammie. If you see her, or if you know where she lives, could you tell her I’m still looking for her? That I never gave…
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“Sailors, Come”
If you liked this post, please send it to a friend. If the reading audience grows, agents and publishers become suddenly far more keen on joining in the Adventures of […]
