My mom wasn’t on board with the whole gay thing at first. I never even had to tell her; she overheard me talking to my girlfriend on the phone, and recognized the tone of my voice. “I’m going to consider it a phase,” she told me to my face. “You’ll get over it. Oh, and … Continue reading Shadows wane
I’m not known for being graceful. In fact, I have a reputation: I’m a klutz. If it’s on the floor, I will trip on it. If it has a corner, I will bump my hip or knee. If it has a sharp edge, I will cut myself. I wonder, sometimes: if you wrapped me in … Continue reading Bumps and scrapes
Almost two years ago, I was sitting at my mother's bedside in her hospital room, putting the finishing touches on a short story. I submitted it from the armchair at the foot of her bed on September 29, 2017; she died twenty-four hours later. On September 10, 2018—almost a year later—my story, "The Siren and … Continue reading All aboard
No, I'm not talking presidents here. I'm talking birthdays. I turned 45 this week. It's one of those landmark birthdays - not like 50, or course, or even like 40, but it's divisible by five so it's important, right? Truth is, 45 feels pretty much just like 44. Which felt like 43, which felt like... … Continue reading 45 is the new 44
four thirty AM three doors down a crow finds its voice Trying out a lune this week. Posted on non-fic because, well, it's true.
