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Archive for August, 2020

Chiefs & Peons

Posted in He Said/She Said, memoir, tagged , , on 2020/08/28 | Comments Off on Chiefs & Peons

She: “Did you know that handkerchiefs are coming back into vogue?” He: “No …” She: “And … never mind, I can’t tell you.” He: “Can’t tell me what?” She: “About the cool colors they come in now. You’d be appalled.” He: “Probably. But I’m going to find out sooner or later, so …” She: “Purple, […]

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Make It Beta

Posted in memoir, novel, tagged , , on 2020/08/25 | Comments Off on Make It Beta

Currently, beta readers are checking my first book for continuity errors and plot holes. Apparently they want better writing and are picky about their coffee, too.

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He Is Helpful

Posted in He Said/She Said, memoir, tagged , , , on 2020/08/23 | Comments Off on He Is Helpful

She finished her novel and said to He: “I just typed my tentative title into Amazon. Three-thousand other novels have the title, A Place to Belong.” He said: “That’s easily fixable.” She said: “Yeah, change the title.” He said: “A Place to Be Short.”

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55 Flash Fiction ~ Skip It

Posted in writing, tagged , on 2020/08/23 | 14 Comments »

After Jack’s family moved from Australia to America, Jack came home within an hour of being left in his first grade classroom. “These yanks are mental,” he said. “I ain’t no sheila and I’m not going back!” “Whatever happened?” His mum asked. “Teacher says I gotta skip to the loo!” ~*~ In memory of G-Man’s 55 […]

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The Old Lady and The Clothes Shrinkers

Posted in writing, tagged on 2020/08/23 | 4 Comments »

Natalina was a quick-witted, feisty old broad. She lived alone in a quaint little castle on the edge of Snowmania, but she wasn’t lonely. Natalina had a large, extended family and many friends. She also kept quite busy with charitable causes. One of her favorite philanthropies involved promoting small businesses. Her favorite slogan was, “Nurture […]

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For My Trumpet Man

Posted in poetry, tagged , , on 2020/08/22 | 2 Comments »

Trumpet manblows his horn so sweetlythat the sea rolls in to listenand even the moon yearns to touch him. Charlene L. Amsden

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