Of haunted skies
I’ve always thought storm clouds to be beautiful. Often when I’m sad I’ll reach for a work that resides in…
One line
Some days, I wonder why I write stories. Is it to get published? Yep. Can’t deny that one. Is it to be read and heard, and maybe loved? Oh, yes. But why does it make me ache if I don’t?
Cracked wide open
We all have our natural inclinations, but it doesn’t have to be the whole of us.
The disconnected e-reader
I value my privacy, but there’s nothing to hide. There’s not a single book I’m ashamed to have read. Not even the ones I regret reading (because I could have spent the time reading something better). A book’s a book.