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It's not late but I just finished my cup of chamomile tea and I am getting very tired. Also I have been studying since about 5:30 so it's almost 4 hours of writing researching and watching clips of Donnie Darko, and now I should get back to Snow Crash and continue for a while, or until I fall asleep. I was working all day and then went home to study so it has been a long day. But I am gonna read a bit before I go to bed. My neighbour is barbecuing so Spock is going crazy being inside. I just have ...

When I first attempted to write a story was probably in Preschool, so so so many years ago, I didn't think much, but I like it. I remember running up to my Dad, waving the paper around while running towards him as he came to pick me up.

I have not changed so much since that time. When I write, I'd like it to be for the sole purpose that I like it. I really don't like writing essays, prompts, or anything like that, but for the sake of animals, I am able to sick in until the end. Wish ...

Give me enough time for quiet meditation and I'll have a rather ingenious explanation for why the sun comes up each morning for my benefit.

When I was a young Christian being despaired of by my instructors in the faith for a devotion to comics books that rivals the attachment to a certain well thought of literary moderator it would cross my mind they might have a point.

I likened it to watching soap operas. Just had to see what developments tomorrow would bring. Being ...

This morning, I found myself trying to find out where I stand on poetry. Not ON POETRY, like some sort of treatise, or in the grand scheme of things. Just right now. The work I’m doing falls into two categories: writing and revising. Is there really anything else?

Last semester, I joined my first writing group and took my first creative writing class. The class was miserable, but I love the writing group (most of the time), have met some great writers, and gotten a little bit of ...

I'm down stairs at my house -- probably checkin' my fantasy football team or reading a LitNet thread, when I hear a loud

*crash, bang, tumble crash!*

from the garage. I think something just fell off of one of the shelves. Maybe one of the kids' sleds.

Anyway, it's gettin' time for me to go pick up the kids. So I walk up stairs and get my keys, wallet and phone and get read to go out the door.

Interlude Regarding "the Door" ...