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. [plain]Rhyming Timing…

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On Writing

The Thrill of Writing

I started Wordsmith Holler to experiment and put myself out there. I have no other reason. It seemed pointless to keep writing first drafts and store them in the cloud. Stored and forgotten. Go ahead and post them and let others decide their true worth. I also do not understand the current publishing business. Writers are discovered online on Twitter. Can 140-character riffs really indicate your ability to write? I suppose if you are writing…

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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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On Writing

Making Time

I dislike the gym. I do not have a gym membership and the thought of exercise sends me back to the couch. I like the couch. It is safer and never leads to a pulled back muscle. Of course, I could use some stretching of my back muscles. Writing – the actual practice of sitting down and writing – has never been a problem. I mean, the actual knocking out of words. The words flow…

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