For a September 4th writing workshop class:

A thing that you have to get used to about rivers is the one-way ness. It's not necessarily impossible to swim upstream, but it's often exceedingly difficult. You might not even be able to hold your place. If you're headed for the rocks, you might be able to reduce the impact forces infinitesimally, but ( Read more... )

For an August 7th writing workshop class:I heard the satisfying crunch of the gravel as I sped down the driveway. Hearing the crunch at 3am was somehow different from hearing it at noon. Perhaps the darkness of night impelled me to divert extra attention to my hearing ( Read more... )

From a July 10th writing workshop class:

O Master... Lock
You are so shiny, wearing your thick sandwiched plates
You could stop a bullet
I saw it on YouTubeYour keyhole is like two letter Ls - an upside down one and a backwards on perched on the end of it ( Read more... )

From a July 10th writing workshop class:

I am from not-quite-the-sea. An Island surrounded by water*, but I grew up on a farm. I never liked fishing. I don't like seafood.

Similarly, I majored in English but I studiously avoided poetry, as one professor put it.

But I smelled the sea on the boat and it meant I was going somewhere. I find the ( Read more... )

From a July 10th writing workshop class:

In English the meaning of my name can be found on Page 1125 of The Really, Really Big Book of Baby Names. In Mother it means I'm about to be lassoed into some novel unpleasantness. It's an off-the-shelf generic name. If I ever change it, it will be to something new and different. This reminds me: I helped ( Read more... )

Her voice sounded like a blueberry muffin and her hair was the colour of music. I relied on her too much.

There's an Alanis Morissette song called "You Owe Me Nothing In Return" and like many of her post-Jagged Little Pill songs there are parts that have the effortless grace of letting bowling balls roll up the basement stairs but they're so full ( Read more... )