Browsing category blogging

sometimes a great notion

Today someone reminded me life is beautiful. Like Paul Newman, beautiful. For most people it can be difficult not to get caught up in their own personal stories. I think this goes doubly true for writers. Those of us who write fiction spend our lives willfully creating drama and conflict, driving people to the edge

fear and hp lovecraft

The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is Fear of the Unknown. – H.P. Lovecraft H.P. Lovecraft was the forefather of modern horror fiction. His guiding literary principle was what he termed “cosmic horror”, the idea that life is incomprehensible to human minds and that

and in the end, despair

“If you look for truth, you may find comfort in the end; if you look for comfort you will not get either comfort or truth only soft soap and wishful thinking to begin, and in the end, despair.” – C.S. Lewis Yesterday was the first day I ever thought it. Something horrible. She knew. She

mark twain. the trilogy.

The more things are forbidden, the more popular they become. – Mark Twain There’s a photo of me unwrapping Christmas presents, hands to head, squealing in excitement. I remember being tickled to death at my gifts but if The Euro had not caught it on camera I would have sworn he exaggerated. In addition to

auld lang syne

I’m curled up under the covers feeling sorry for myself because I wont be spending the weekend with Flynn and attending her legendary New Years Eve soiree. I’m tempted to head this post the same as I headed my RSVP but my mother will call and make that clicking noise she makes with her tongue


It was Christmas. I was twenty three, trying to make The Euro jealous and dating a man named Alex. Alex was from Volimes, a village on the island of Zakynthos. He was six years older than me, brain crushingly beautiful and an absolute ass. But he was a fantastic cook when I could only afford

escorting elizabeth edwards

Elizabeth Edwards had been abandoned at a venue by her handlers and needed an escort. One of the event organizers caught me rummaging through the craft service, otherwise idle, and asked if I would be so kind – I certainly would. Edwards didn’t look sixty. Or sick. And more than anything, I remember being taken

dickensian days

Last night I went to Trader Joe’s and brought home a dozen bags of asparagus. And a sausage substitute. I’m having a hard time finding proper British bangers. If anyone knows where I can find a nice Cumberland type, or anything that isn’t seasoned to death, do let me know. Pork may not be the

pinkie brown

Listening to Joy Division and chatting about Sam Riley, the brilliant actor who played Ian Curtis in the 2007 movie “Control” and more recently, Pinkie Brown, in the film adaptation of Graham Greene’s novel Brighton Rock. (Also, Sal Paradise in Jack Kerouac’s On the Road.) If I’ve never gushed over Brighton Rock it’s only because

a little space, you know

Out of the Rolling Ocean, the Crowd by Walt Whitman OUT of the rolling ocean, the crowd, came a drop gently to me, Whispering, I love you, before long I die, I have travel’d a long way, merely to look on you, to touch you, For I could not die till I once look’d on

mother’s druthers

I sometimes think, and most of the time know, if my mother had her druthers she’d live somewhere like this. With enough hill to run up and roll down. And an ocean, just underneath. The house, built in the fifties, is perched on a cliff on Elliðaey (Ellirey), an island south of Iceland’s mainland. Rumor

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