It’s another rainy, rainy day here in San Francisco. Just walking from BART to the office has my legs soaked from the knees down. Don’t get me wrong, I love the rain, and gods know we needed it, but after a solid month of the stuff, I find myself craving the sun. My cats are
I have rededicated my efforts to build on my Patreon, and decided that a good way to kick that off is a special offer. For the next 30 days, through 4/16, all new patrons, and anyone increasing their tier, will get a personalized, hand written postcard from my stash of postcards, some of which date
Ever since I was a teenager, I’ve had a love of horror novels. I found a John Saul book at a garage sale when I was around 14, and having already cut my teeth on Steven King’s Salem’s Lot and Carrie, I was hungry for more. That book was Comes the Blind Fury. I’m not
I’m the first to admit, I am a lover of gadgets. If I could, I would have all the gadgets. Well, maybe not all of them. I’m not an Apple lover (but I couldn’t find a freely available picture of a collection of Samsung gadgets). Some gadgets I came to late in the game. My first
When you ride the same train every day, stand in the same spot to wait for it, you tend to get to know the people who also ride the same train every day and stand in the same line to wait for it. You also get to know the peculiarities of that station’s particular etiquette.
When I was still in high school, someone from the church we were attending found an old typewriter and had it cleaned up and repaired and I found it under my Christmas tree. We were barely making ends meet, and with little money left over for gifts, my mother had reached out to the church
I was startled awake at four AM this morning by gusty winds outside my bedroom window. I had been aware that we were expecting a significant storm, but the reality of it was a bit jarring as I was waking up from some scattered dream that I think was about getting arrested. My dream life
My focus the last week or so has been on my upcoming surgery, which means not much writing gets done. I still try to take at least fifteen minutes to write every day, even if it is a half a poem or the sketch of a story idea. Every word is a struggle right now,
It’s an odd thing, really. By which I mean time and our visions of the future. We’ve arrived at the year 2019, which past us predicted would be in varying degrees of dystopian decay, with technology that we haven’t quite realized. We may be well on our way to dystopian entropy, given our current political,
We live in an age of new understanding of old traditions and previously accepted history. I doubt that there are many Americans who haven’t at least heard that there is a problem with what we think we know about the beginnings of our country, or that the first “thanksgiving” was not what we learned it was in grade school.
