On Writing

The Bedwell Curse

I am sure she really meant no harm when she said, “You will never be a writer.” The shock of the statement caused me to burn inside and I ached to prove her wrong. My sophomore English teacher failed to understand my punctuation and short sentences that often lacked complexity or my fascination with Tyburn poems. “Rat-a-tat-tat,” she would write on my papers. “Less poetry, more exposition,” she scrawled in big red letters. Sentences consisting…

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My Craft

On the Path from Small to Large

Small. Brownie Cottage. 300 square feet. Enough room to sit. And maybe spin all around. The size of a gingerbread doghouse. If the dog was a small mastiff. A big dog with a very large appetite. With no place to store the dog food bags. The minimalists say we all could stand to slim down. That our mega mansions, stuff, and stacks of books signify waste. But the very thought of living in a one-room…

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