Tag Archives: Writing
The Old Blues He Loved to Sing
Maybe it shouldn’t matter how Homeless Joe ended up shivering in the woods somewhere in southeast PA under a full moon in early September of 2050, singing out Catfish Blues, sliding the little section of steel pipe up and down … Continue reading
The Sun Men
Begin transmission. I must report this quickly, before the next gravity surge crushes the sun station. Will it ever be heard? Five hundred years ago, during the reign of the Third Dark Moon Prince, the first sky man transformed gravity … Continue reading
Rules for Writing or: What the Heck Do Editors Really Want?
Like many neophyte fiction writers, I often find myself perplexed and distressed at the steady stream of rejections flowing into my inbox. Assurances that our literary betters slogged through similar swamps in their formative days may bring little bursts of … Continue reading
Glass Planet 