Read more about the article The Ghost Drinking My Tequila Wasn’t the Worst of My Problems
Photo by Roberto Nickson on Pexels.com

The Ghost Drinking My Tequila Wasn’t the Worst of My Problems

This is the short 481-version of my fun ghost story. The sound of knocking woke me at three. A silver crescent moon hung askew outside the bedroom windows. Wind rocked gnarled trees that bent like old men with aging spines. I crept down the stairs, my cell phone in hand with 911 punched in ready to hit send. The refrigerator door creaked open. I hadn’t wanted to admit I’d bought a haunted house. I’d hunted for explanations for the odd…

0 Comments
Read more about the article A Rabbit No More, I Show the Demon Wolf the Door
Photo by Julien Riedel on Pexels.com

A Rabbit No More, I Show the Demon Wolf the Door

I wrote this for a dear friend when she called in need of inspiration. She believed her father’s wolfish lies— So outrageous I didn’t think to counter them. Truth—I was a rabbit, afraid. The wolf bit me anyway, And blazed me with his burning breath. Except— His lies kicked up the soil, Uncovered a new truth— I’m stronger than I knew. Even a rabbit with scorched skin, Can feel her mother-way to words That if spoken Turn embers into flames,…

0 Comments
Read more about the article You Won’t Want to Miss
Photo by Lum3n on Pexels.com

You Won’t Want to Miss

If you haven’t yet checked them out. . .you might enjoy “Real-life Writing’s” free monthly newsletters.      March’s newsletter, https://bit.ly/3PP68e3, offers the original first chapter to Lies, replaced when I started Lies in a less blood-thirsty manner: “It would almost be worth going to prison. Just for a moment, I let myself picture the look of surprise on Mike’s face when I plunged the knife into his belly. To be acquitted, I’d have to have a jury made up of divorced…

0 Comments
Read more about the article He Was Different, Better
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

He Was Different, Better

            I slammed the phone down. Mom called me lonely, but she’d never liked any of my guys.             When I moved toward him, Bob shot me an understanding look. Good thing he hadn’t heard her part of the conversation. If Mom had ever taken the time to get to know Bob, she’d know he gave me respect and support. Bob rolled his eyes. I was so lucky to have him.  He didn’t have to open his mouth all the…

0 Comments

Where Did I Put My Spirit?

Where did I put my spirit? It was here the other day. Must be somewhere close. Unless it wilted when I caved. Ran when I cratered. Spirit, I need you— Why should I come back? Well, without you— You took me for granted. No. I never. Yeah, right. Well.... Maybe. Here’s the deal. I’m not coming back. Unless You put up a fight. But without you— No, we’ve played it that way— For too long. This time, you go first.…

0 Comments

Dragon’s Breath

Her heart hitches when she sees the fortress of three fallen spruce trees and thick alder branches half-buried by windblown snow. Wintry air turns the tears on her cheeks into ice drops. She breathes in the frozen shards of January air. Words come, ones she’s repeated for two years. “I haven’t stopped loving you.” In her dreams, her fiancé answers back. Now, cold, empty silence greets her, the only heat a flame of anger that pushes forward. “Did you not…

2 Comments

I Never

I’ve never harmed a living creature. I’ve never tied thread to a butterfly’s wings or pulled a daddy longlegs’ center from his wriggling legs. Thirty years ago, Ma gave birth to me on a rotting cloth cot strung up in a leaking tar paper shack in the Tennessee hill country. They say a storm rains down babies. Two were born on our hill that night under a thunderstorm that bent trees to the ground as it rolled west from Mt.…

1 Comment

A Drama in 127 Words: Leaning Forward

Here's a story I wrote one evening waiting out a storm at the cabin that a favorite literary magazine, The Big Windows Review published. I'd love to know what you think of it. Cully fights her way up the steep hill, attacked at every step by thick alder bushes bent from last winter’s snow. Clumps of prickly Devil’s Club and patches of stinging Cow Parsnip caution “danger, retreat.”She doesn’t listen.   Her fiancé waits for her over the next rise. He had…

3 Comments

Dare to Real-life Write

When I read the powerful The Lie That Tells a Truth, I began thinking of a character who wasn’t me, but who’d gone through what I had and come out the other side.  Jess Cassidy burst into life. Her Next Hero begins with: He shouldn’t fly. I shoved my doubts down and shivered as my fiancé completed his pre-flight check. Steel-colored clouds clamped down on the mountains that dwarfed Finn’s twin-engine Beechcraft. Finn walked a final time around his plane,…

0 Comments

Making Dreams Come True

I’m looking at this view as I write this post. There’s a patch of blue to head toward and mountains to climb. I’m rebooting my writing career from the “dear Abby of the workplace” niche I’ve carved out to write very personal novels. Five agents are reading Her Next Hero. What about you? Are you rebooting too? Here’s what I know: Clear the deck. You can’t move quickly by dragging sludge. Whenever you want to excel in a new arena,…

0 Comments