It’s 3:30 a.m. and my beloved greyhound Gee is having a grand mal seizure on the couch. I can feel adrenaline—in the form of full alertness—course through my body. I watch over her, her paddling legs and foaming mouth, to make sure she will not injure herself. There is not…
Sleep. And taking back the night.
(Part of my writing prompt series for my October 50,000 word challenge) Do you know that commercial for the eyelash growing drug? It’s for people with “inadequate or not enough lashes.” It always makes me wonder, do they mean to say that inadequate and not enough are two different states…
Since I’m on an epic quest: 50,000 words in 31 days, approximately 1620 words per day, I thought I’d share a writing prompt, in case anyone else out there is looking for inspiration for your own writing practice. Reading Patricia Hampl’s essay “Memory and Imagination” this morning, I pondered stories…
Thunder in the distance tonight sounds like trembling. And the recliner is shuddering because my dog, Cleo, is hiding underneath the footrest. Sometimes Cleo will go outside in the thunder, even though thunder—or rain, which suggests the prospect of thunder—terrifies her if she’s in the house. I wonder if this…
“And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company.” –Helena in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. At the risk of posting yet again about my dog (W: You’re not going to make it into a dog blog, are you? Me: Of course not. I’m…
I wonder what would happen if a squirrel 30 feet up a tree suddenly looked back and thought, Shit that’s a long way down. I’m hanging here by my toenails. Or, midleap between tall branches understands, I’m defying gravity. He looks at his landing zone and realizes, That little twig?…
