Eating My Words

eating my words, blogging, Winston Churchill“What’s for breakfast?” my son asks. He’s visiting from California thanks to a Boston business trip.

Malevolent . Ensorcell. Palatable.

Sean watches me pour the words into my cereal bowl. “Are you adding milk to that?” he wonders out loud.

“I like my words dry,” I respond.

My sophisticated adult son sits down with a thud. The look in his gray-green eyes changes from amusement to concern in seconds.  Continue reading

The Interview

interview, interview room, creative writingWhen the woman on the phone asks for a meeting, I envision a comfortable table, a set of four stiff-backed chairs, a pitcher of ice water with four to six glasses, and a smallish window where some gloomy ray of sunlight strains to show through dusty blinds.

In other words, a setting like most of the interviews I’ve endured these past six months. Continue reading