Two Things About Rip Taylor’s Death

I saw earlier this evening that Rip Taylor passed away, and I immediately wanted to be able to go to my RSS feed and find that Jack Pendarvis had maybe written something about this news on his blog (even though he rarely blogs about anything not related to the appearance of owls in books anymore)….

2019 Nobel Prize: My Guess

Though she’s only got bookies’ odds of 10/1, I have a feeling Olga Tokarczuk is going to nab the prize this year. I don’t even know why I think that, except that I saw her name on a list (a list that has Anne Carson’s odds at 4/1), and thought about a book of hers…

Nothing To It

There’s nothing to it. You just start writing. Type out or scribble down a few words, a phrase, an image. Set a timer. Write for an hour. See how many words you can get written in that time. Look them over. Throw them away. Forget all of it. Start again. Train your brain to work…

The Really Good Stuff

Catch everything out of the air into the net of your mind. Place every word in the correct order, arrange the dots and stripes of your perfect sentiment. Write all the beautiful phrases. Polish them, gaze at them in wonder. Congratulate yourself on your amazing powers of creation. Know there is nothing wasted. Marvel at…

Franzen’s Rules

I didn’t think I could like him less as a writer, but he certainly helped me out with that.

The Script: Flipped

I literally wrote this entire blog post just so I could insert “flipped the script” into it somewhere.

The Adding Machine Post

Suffice to say, the Burroughs family of St. Louis had a lot of money. It was this money that afforded William Seward Burroughs II a spot at Harvard, from which he graduated in 1936, as well as the freedom to pursue writing and shooting up heroin and sex-seeking holidays in Tangier. This money, with what he made as reporter, also financed a fateful stint in Mexico City.

The Bloomsbury Memories Post

It’s a long story that doesn’t bear repeating here on my blog, but I dug out an old, OOOLLLLD piece of writing last week because I think I finally found the perfect person to share it with. So I took this collection of paper pages and retyped the whole thing into a Word document. As…

Sorry. I Gotta Go Blog.

Add to all that the fact that I just sent a message on FB to a friend of mine which said: “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I feel like I’m inside a goddamn wiffle ball filled with jingle bells half the time.”

Tired or Lazy? One of These For Sure.

I realized almost 24 hours after I posted to my blog last night that I called my imaginary TV show the wrong thing. I’m sorry.

Liebke, meine Liebling!

Picture it: West Virginia. In your memory it is always bleak, always winter. Picture a town 15 miles from the nearest interstate exit, a town so insular and clannish that if you were not born inside a house (or on the marble floor of a bank lobby or on a pile of hay in a…

Nothing Weird Here

I didn’t even cry or anything, I just moved past the sad fact that I can’t sell a damned book NO MATTER WHAT and started writing a blog post.

Like a Little Girl

Remember that time I got to meet Senator Robert Byrd (before he went off the deep end into senility and helped put Alito on the Supreme Court) at the dedication of that jail in Gilmer County, WV? And remember when Senator John D. Rockefeller IV sought me out in a reporters’ line-up so he could…

Oh, well. Why not?

Have I ever mentioned what a Twittiot I am? This is my word (probably not original: shut up!) for being a Twitter Idiot. I’m so bad at it. Instagram, too. All those hashtags and @-symbols and the never-ending. always-updating scroll on both platforms. I was born in 1969. This is not the future I imagined….

Progression Obsession

At this moment I am typing in a document called The Stream II and I have logged a word-count of 24,325 since the file was created on 9 August. Four days after I created this document I started posting on social media photos of my daily word-count, numbers which have varied widely over the last…