Raven (Sandcastle 7.14)
Three leagues North as the raven flies, messenger of the gods. In barren white, the call sounds. One for sorrow, two for mirth.
Three leagues North as the raven flies, messenger of the gods. In barren white, the call sounds. One for sorrow, two for mirth.
We are descended from a beautiful lineage, but most of us don’t remember. Call them fairies, call them angels, or even call them demons….
I carried two soldiers today, two men I had never met. A name on a sign, one in each hand, the names of two fallen vets.
Excerpts from my journal, a day-by-day recounting of my week at The Clearing in Ellison Bay, Wisconsin for a writing workshop
Don’t keep tapping that DELETE button when you are operating on your manuscript.
To celebrate 1,000 followers on Twitter and 200 on Facebook, I’m thrilled to present a deleted chapter called “Phantom and the Werewolf.”
I would like to pause and thank the select group of teachers who inspired me to learn and grow into the writer I am today….
Wandering blind with no direction, too long you’ve been injecting rejection into my thoughts—correction—my heart….
It’s not enough. There is nothing in this world I could give you to fill the abyss of your suffering. It’s like trying to fill a hole to the center of the earth….
“Why are you still trying? Nobody is reading. Nobody cares what you have to say….”