“Hit me,” I say, sliding onto my favourite bar stool. “And make it strong.” Maudie eyes my dirt-encrusted skin and bloody fingernails as she grabs the kettle. “Oh honey, what’d she do this time? Bury you alive?” I nod. “Fire… Continue Reading
The main problem with the workshop was that we were all writing in different languages. Each of us. I came to understand it as part of a study led by a professor of linguistics, though I’m not sure that story… Continue Reading
The first time I drove the entire way up Emigration Canyon and realized the freeway connected to Park City and it was as though all the barriers I’d grown up with fell down. The first time I drove my car… Continue Reading
I opened the door to greet the sales representative from the Rod Serling School of Writing. Mr. Gregg stood awkwardly on the stoop. He attempted a smile but his expression indicated he’d rather be somewhere else. He was a tall,… Continue Reading
I was about to give up when the hold music — a few looping bars of infuriating non-jazz — abruptly cut out. “Hello, Lost Drafts,” a voice said. I fumbled with the receiver. “Hi, I uh… I was told to… Continue Reading
“Leo, take a break for God’s sake. You’ve been writing since dawn and it’s almost ten o’clock at night now. Please eat something and come to bed.” “Sophia, I know you mean well but don’t distract me now. I have… Continue Reading
The third time I walked past the library, I noticed she was still sitting there… reading glasses pushed into her short curly hair, tray of cupcakes in front of her… alone. “Hello,” I said, sitting down on the seat closest… Continue Reading
Fifty years ago, Great-uncle Stanton was a successful author of supernatural horror. His heroes were always brash and unafraid when the reader would have been cowering, while the man behind the typewriter was painfully private, writing under an opaque alias… Continue Reading
“We’re only here because we love you.” I come home from the grocery store to find my living room filled with family and friends. It smells like cake. But it’s not my birthday. “Sit down.” I would rather stand. In… Continue Reading
The earth was flat, and you could commit suicide without worrying about being a nuisance. You could jump right off the edge, not so much dead as gone. No one had to fish out your body. Pat’s mother knocked on… Continue Reading