The coffee cup shattered on the kitchen tiles, shards exploding to all corners of the room. The thick black liquid turned amber on the sand-coloured floor, an elegant splat that moulded itself into something like a crescent moon. Alastair stood there for a moment, bemused. This had never happened before. Oh he had knocked a…
Tag: fiction
The Lore of Rich Kid Drugs
Reggie declared that rich kids like opiates from their parents’ medicine cabinets and buy Adderall from the back pocket of another private school kid and snort coke off of smooth knuckles. Nobody gets arrested; they get sent to rehab. “Weed,” Reggie proclaimed, standing on the break room couch for his lecture’s finale, “Is whattells these…
Moved
Delilah’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking. It frustrated her. As a Surveyor at the Glass Park, she was meant to look firm. Slightly intimidating. Most of the time, the park was closed off to the public. Countless bottles laid out across the land. Daffodils stood inside; fragile, but incredibly important. On the first day of spring,…
The Story Behind the 2 Rules of Writing
A lot has been going on at the website in the last few weeks. We took on an intern, Blossom Akpojisheri of Port Harcourt, Nigeria. We’re sorting things out with a photo editor, Allegra Boverman. And the website became financially self-sustaining. It’s a lot to celebrate all at once. Considering Erika and I founded this…
Are you Sincere? (Like the Wind #3)
1: The Incorrigible Writer Gavin: I’m told I need a hook at the beginning of my delivery to get the reader in. But, I don’t like fish nibbling my toes much. And readers that are hooked want to blame the whole journey on the fisherman. I much prefer to think of a reader as an…
A Collage of Cascading Opacity (Like the Wind #2)
Content warning: Sexual Assault. -Ed. Response to Delivery One It has arisen in me the feeling of the mask. The feeling of Celia saying, “Go into your protective shield of rampant happiness [the mask] and stop molesting me.” The disintegrated soul molests itself. Feminine, technological aspects, masculine and lies, fronts, protective shields. This piece by…
Storyteller… Replaced (The Dr. M Chronicles)
Well… I’ve been replaced as storyteller. Or, at least, it’s only a matter of time. My nephew, Dr. M, lives in Bangalore with his parents. Anuja and her mother live nearby. I call him once a week to tell him a story. The time zones work out so that it’s midnight my time, but I…
Like the Wind: Preface and Prologue
Series Preface: The Grand Art of Story In a story it is perhaps hard to appreciate a character’s journey that is tangential to our own. Not much being offered that helps us navigate our own. Or helps us understand our own, or inspires us to forget our own for a few hours, or to make…
The Fourth Wall (Caturday)
Big Cat, Little Cat: The Fourth Wall Was the Fourth Wall Always There? Back in my dissertatin’ days, one of my particular interests was: the occasions on which an epic poet talks in the first person. You might say: times when the poet breaks the fourth wall. For example, the way Homer does at the…
Writing Fiction: Learning to Say “I Can”
About two years ago, fueled by COVID and general upheaval in my life, I started writing again. Writing was something I’d loved doing. Until I let someone into my life who destroyed my confidence in so many ways. And, as a result, I stopped doing things that brought me joy. That was almost twenty-five years…