A few thoughts on freedom
Category: writing
After the plague
I have to preface this essay by making one thing clear: I have to great love for dystopian visions, or narratives of the apocalypse.
As a much younger man, I reveled in tales of the end of the world, or of the world gone wrong. Nineteen Eighty-four was my lodestar. Brave New World possessed a strange allure, as I in my hubris knew I’d be born as an Alpha. Alas, Babylon was a seminal work in my adolescence. And, of course, who can forget A Canticle for Leibowitz, whose central theme is that the problem is with humanity, regardless of how many chances it gets to get things right.
And then my mother asked
Eternity lies in those who remember us. Continue reading “And then my mother asked”
Old friends
Wondering about people who’ve left your life applies to those in the virtual world as much as the real world. Continue reading “Old friends”
How hard is it for you to write?
A love affair
Young love is where you learn life’s pain. Continue reading “A love affair”
A Prayer
Among the notes of a forgotten school
This notebook, with its faded pages,
Survived moves and various life changes
In a hidden-away nook,
Ready upon a night, on a cursory look
To be taken up as a useful tool.
The Walkers
More from my back catalog.
I’m glad to see that WordPress has upgraded its tools for publishing poetry. It used to be a bear to do it.
Waiting for Cecily
Back in the hoary days of 2005, I began a project entitled Dramas & Fables. These were going to be a series of short short stories, working off of the idea of Joycean epiphanies. Of course, I was in grad school at the time, and the project petered out. For the blog, I will post what I got through writing: three Dramas and three Fables.
Beginning of a memoir
My wife often importunes me to finish a writing project, any writing project, so that I can bring in money and keep her in the manner into which she’s accustomed.
I have my novel, which I’ve been working on for longer than I care to remember. And I have another project which began to take shape after the Las Vegas massacre.
But, last night, I began to formulate yet another project, something a bit light, a bit jaunty, a bit devil-may-care, about a topic on which I know much: being a modern librarian.
A Writing Corner 