My other blog that focuses on my ministry stuffs has reached over 400 posts. That seems like a lot of words to me. I mentioned as much to a friend, who made a suggestion that has blossomed into an idea that I’m considering: Writing nonfiction. OK, sure, I’m already writing nonfiction over at that blog […]Read More Maybe Nonfiction Instead?
Marlene knew she shouldn’t have read the unsterilized book, but sometimes it’s hard to say no. She’d been hired as a booksheller and placed in the “pleasant books” division. She slept through training – who didn’t? – and then was placed out in the orchard, plucking the ripened nuts from the thick, thick branches. She […]Read More The Book Orchard
I just finished reading Still Life with Tornado by A. S. King. This is a Good Book. It paints a chillingly accurate picture of spousal abuse from the eyes of a child with a stunningly original speculative twist thrown in: Sarah, sixteen years old at the time of the novel, encounters herself as a ten-year-old, […]Read More A Good Book is a Mirror
“Come here, pixie!” David laughed as he snatched up his daughter and tickled her. She flailed her arms and legs, giggling. Her eyes glowed with love for her dad. They plunked down on the couch in front of the tv, and the tickles continued for a few moments. Sara snuggled into her dad with a […]Read More Daddy and Daughter Time
“You get that fire going yet, Fin?” “Naw, it’s hard to start a fire with wet wood,” spat Fin. “All the wood in this forest is wet,” said Dimber. “So just make do.” “I’ll make do with your teeth!” snapped Fin. “What does that even mean?” asked Dimber, gently setting a bag on the ground, […]Read More A Stranger in the Woods
Sometimes I write depressing things. In part, that’s because I have clinical depression. Honestly, if you look at what I post, it probably shouldn’t surprise anyone – after all, I have a lot of “Oh, sad” stories, and then some with a more humorous bent. Which is really a lot like having depression. Most of […]Read More Sad Little Stories
Home. Finally, finally home. I almost see it. I ache, it’s so close. Finally, I’ll leave the sunless sky of the colony ship. Finally, I will know the sky. The real, endless, glorious sky! Home. It’s a word we use so casually. Like it’s meaningless. Just a syllable for a place we inhabit. But that […]Read More Under the Sunless Sky