Ponder a squirrel who is
Eager to be a bird, thus
Tempted to give up a part of himself
Enough to accept a dragonfly’s magic while
Yearning to be like his best bird friends. Continue reading
A Timely Ghost Story that Matters
“Hold on to your hat, Stephen,” Harriet warns. “You’re about to discover how little you know.” https://roughwighting.net/2024/07/19/a-humdinger-of-a-ghost-story/
In an irritated, and yes, arrogant tone, Stephen responds, “I know you’ve created drama where there is none. My mom, your supposed best friend, was extremely successful. She was a famous literary novelist. I think you rode on her coattails and now that mom is dead, you want to ride some more. You want to write her books, make money, and gain success on the back of her death!” Continue reading
A Humdinger of a Ghost Story
“Why don’t you and I work together – starting with your mom’s first three chapters – and write the ghost’s story,” Harriet suggests. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a humdinger.” https://roughwighting.net/2024/07/05/ghost-writer/
“A what?” Stephen asks. As a 36-year-old investment analyst with an appetite for math but none for words, he has no idea what his mom’s best friend is talking about. But she’s old, at least 60, so that’s par for the course. Continue reading
Ghost Writer
“It’s haunted, you know,” Stephen says as soon as the attorney, Mr. Richardson, reads his mother’s will.
“I know,” Harriet answers a bit smugly.
Stephen startles, opens his mouth as if to say something, closes it as if thinking better, then spits it out anyway: “That’s the only reason mother would leave the Berkshire cabin to you. It’s old, it’s unheated, and it’s been haunted for 100 years.” Stephen stands up, tight jeans hugging his hips, tight smile hugging his clenched teeth. Continue reading
Summer Zen
My Summer Zen story began as a prompt to my creative writing students: “Write a story that includes the line: ‘I wish I could stay here forever.’ Each writer sunk into the memory of a ‘perfect’ day. But as I wrote my story, I realized that we all could find a perfect moment in every day.
Oh, and the header photo happened this past week – eight little turkey babies (poults) on our deck railing. I think Turkey Mama was having a perfect moment.
As lavender dusk approaches, walk me into the house, put a little music on– Rosemary Clooney, Enya, Vivaldi, the Beatles Rubber Soul– and let the fresh early-summer air meander through the open window. Yes, I’m beginning to get there. Continue reading
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