My Craft

A Diamond in Her Eye

[aesop_image imgwidth=”800″ img=”https://wordsmithholler.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/03/gangster-539993_1920.jpg” credit=”Pixabay” align=”left” lightbox=”on” captionposition=”left” revealfx=”off”] “You’ll never get me to tell you where the jewels are,” the child said. She leaned back and smirked. Too much television, thought the inspector. He sat down across from her rattling the metal chair against the table in the interrogation room. The girl leaned forward. She glared at him. The stare-off went on for a few minutes until he leaned forward. The girl pushed back pinning her arms…

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Scribbles

March 3, 2017 Scribble

You can read this if you wish although it consists of thoughts and fragments as I attempt to free write 750 words every day. Some of this may end up in a Story or a Conversation. Anyway, this is how one learn and shapes up The Craft. America is divided. The Hatfield vs. the McCoys. #BLM vs #BLM. Of course, it is nowhere near the biggest mix up as The Orange and the Green.  At…

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Scribbles

March 2, 2017 Scribble

You can read this if you wish although it consists of thoughts and fragments as I attempt to free write 750 words every day. Some of this may end up in a Story or a Conversation. Anyway, this is how one learn and shapes up The Craft. According to my new writing goal, I am supposed to just write down whatever comes to my head and finish up in 750 words. The whole thing sounds…

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My Craft

Driving Back from Spring Break

[aesop_image imgwidth=”500px” img=”https://wordsmithholler.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/bokeh-1033539_1920.jpg” credit=”Pixabay” align=”right” lightbox=”on” captionposition=”left” revealfx=”off”] Three days earlier I studied all night with a girlfriend for a physics exam and afterward drove four classmates 12 hours to San Diego for spring break. The entire trip the girls giggled and cackled behind me while a Korean kid sat silent up front. I decided we scared Jae. Although, being a confused immigrant might also explain his silence. Either way, he only said thanks when I dropped him off…

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My Craft

Joann Jett Joined The Stage Band

[aesop_image imgwidth=”825″ img=”https://wordsmithholler.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/jazz-1263988_1920.jpg” credit=”Pixabay” align=”left” lightbox=”on” captionposition=”left” revealfx=”off”] Behind the library, between the quad and the band room, the Stoners smoke packs of red Marlboro’s. For all practical purposes, this might as well be no man’s land. Only sand dirt seems to grow and the green soccer field starts 80 yards farther away. I imagine the area remained hidden before the school added the soccer field and a football arena. The area is the perfect…

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My Craft

My Life Soon Ends

[aesop_image imgwidth=”825px” img=”https://wordsmithholler.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/mars-image.png” align=”left” lightbox=”on” caption=”Pixabay” captionposition=”left” revealfx=”off”] Sunrise bounced through our plastic dome inching closer to my eyes on the pillow. I looked at the divergence of yellow and red light flaring through the bubble and then across the room. The sixth day of Shepard seemed it would shape up as a typical butterscotch day. I saw the sun’s reflection on the large dome of MaxPol. The sun woke me everyday, but the reflection wasn’t…

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My Craft

George Was A Good Man

Edna sucked in the soup. A large noodle stopped at her lip. She tried to tongue it into her mouth and couldn’t reach it. She slipped back into the chair and let out a long sigh. “I miss George.” Larry stood up and wiped off her mouth. He lifted her hand up and placed the linen in her lap. She forced a smile patting his hand. He left her chair and moved to the window. “George…

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On Writing

The False Ending

I have mentioned that many stories fail to gain traction in the second act. This is where the viewpoint character forgets why they are in the story. Of course, it is the writer who has forgotten; either by writing by their pants or failing to plot in enough conflict to keep the story moving forward. Stories thrive on conflict and bad things must happen to the hero before it all ends up as good and…

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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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