Monday, November 13, 2017

Featherwing publication

Thrilled to hear Timothy Gager, fiction editor of Wilderness House Literary Review, has accepted my story Featherwing for a winter publication.

Thursday, November 2, 2017


She watched Gram recede, wearily. No time for her. No time for that. She turned back to him. Soon he'd be far and unreachable. Long drives on a Sunday for fresh eggs. The swell and swerve of country roads. The way he winked, took his hand off the stick shift, reached over and squeezed her knee. She giggled. Time was boundless.

And now in one strangled moment--Gram praying in a pew, organ music resuming, the sun illuminating The Last Supper and Jesus and his Disciples, a kaleidoscope of colors spinning like the Holy Ghost in a whorl of dust overhead--Cecilia became like him, like stone. She was convinced if she stood there long enough, stared at his hands, she might rise up into the spiraling dust, to look down, to see herself and him, poised, both of them, in the final scene.

marion and last days excerpt from 40 days of asylum

Marion spared me, stared at me so deeply as if she could siphon out the unsaid. If only Tad said my Catherine like that, I used to opine, before the letter, before the mistrust, if only he could be so intensely curious about me, not make assumptions. Never mind that Tad was usually right. Still, there was the gnawing twinkle of curiosity in Marion’s foggy eyes, that slow pulling out of a thought, the introspection, laborious, maybe, but more searing and sensitive.

Annointing up in Sleet Magazine and other

New publication here Sleet Magazine    And cute pic of Jack, the greatest showman And excerpt... Ro was a good boy, Josi felt.  She n...