The man across from me is reading his unintersting book. He moves his finger awkwardly in and out of his mouth as if his filange is some sort of open seasame. He’s tilting his head now and impatiently tapping his watch. Perhaps he can feel my eyes burning a hole though his black and grey hair.

There is a child sitting adjacent from the both of us. She is swinging her young legs wildly out into the isles. Her bright pink rainboots sloshing up the rest of the buses pitiful blue flooring. The girl is young and stupid. Carefree I’d even say. She yawns and sticks out her tongue which is stained red from whatever artifical treat she consumed earlier.

The bus’ loud engine roars up as we chuck through the wet sorrowful streets of Ednaberry. I look out a nearby window hoping to catch some lucky lads attention. I want to wave. Put a smile on someone’s face, if only for a moment. My eyes scan the outside clatter but Noone meets them. Everyone in town is too wrapped up in their own problems to even awknowledge an encouraging face. I fold my hands and redirect my focus back into my bus car.



Roadkill Crossing

Fall in Amish country Ohio by Bruce Stambaugh
By Bruce Stambaugh

For those of us fortunate enough to live within proximity of giant stands of mixed hardwood trees, fall is a glorious time of year to observe life’s constant changes.

The annual autumn spectacular of the once lush leaves magically transforming the emerald landscape into magnificent warm rainbows carries us into nostalgic reflectivity. This year I couldn’t help but note a symbolic similarity in the recent death of the ingenious Steve Jobs, the guru who started Apple Computer.

The very first computer I ever used was an Apple. Just the name of the computer endeared educators to these amazing, easy to use personal computers. School systems across the country bought them for student and teacher use. The fact that Apple was wise enough to give teachers and school districts educator discounts on their purchases made them all the more attractive.

One of the schools where I was principal…

View original post 421 more words


The Blabbermouth Blog

I was talking to some writerly/publishing-type friends the other night and I mentioned that I’m teaching a workshop in Hofstra University’s Continuing Ed program in the spring about Query Letters: why you need them; who they are sent to; what they should and shouldn’t include; how to write one. And then we got into a discussion about how quickly or slowly I can tell whether I’m going to read someone’s manuscript, based on their query. It kind of goes like this: if the query sucks in any of the myriad usual ways it can suck, I don’t bother with the manuscript. Sorry! I only have oh so much time. If the query comes to my e-mail address but is addressed to anybody but me, I don’t read the manuscript (I made an exception to this rule only once). If the query is too weird or too personal or sucks in …

View original post 85 more words


Nights of Passion

I am a member of CTRWA, which is a Connecticut chapter of the Romance Writers of America.  They are particularly gifted at putting on amazing educational events for writers.  I always leave feeling smarter, inspired, and energized to write.  I will be at this workshop, and because I believe in its value, I’m passing on this information to you.

CTRWA Proudly presents…

A Day with Laurie Schnebly Campbell
About The Psychology of Creating Characters

“Here’s your chance to create deep, well-rounded, flesh-and-blood characters!”
Linda Lael Miller, NYT bestselling author

What makes characters the way they are is the same thing that makes real-life people the way they are. Through years of research related to her background as a counseling therapist, Laurie has identified the four factors that determine personality. And the good news for authors is that these same factors create personality traits that automatically build the conflict that…

View original post 106 more words

Blue Veins


This is my first entry on wordpress. I am intrigued to see how this goes. None of you all know me and I’d like to keep it that way.

For now.

Currently listening to: Blue Veins by The Raconteurs

Mood: Somber

I’ve been going through so much lately. I just moved into my own apartment. All on my own, no roomates, no fake bitches, no moochin ass niggas.

Its a one bedroom in posh upper middle class Hyde Park; Chicago,IL.

I have to admit, I’m doing loads better than more than half the people I know.

All of my friends have dwindled off, and fell to the waste side.

Their lives are complete garbage now.

They can’t say I didn’t tell them so.

Somehow I get a warm sense of satisfaction from their demises.

I knew they shouldn’t have fucked me over.

I guess karma really is a bitch.

So now I’m sitting in my room. alone. on my $1,200 bed, thinking back on life.

I really did get the last laugh.

Life is weird without a best friend, I do feel sad about that. Victoria has dropped off the face of the earth I think. Kalila deleted her facebook. Jackie is still… nowhere really. and the rest have gone back home as well, and fizzled out.

I have no one to talk to these days.

No best friend and I think I’ve lost keagan to some ugly white bitch.

So I truly have no one.

Maybe at a time of isolation it is time for inner peace and refelection. So i’m trying to do that. But it sure is lonely.

I’m a junior in art school now, so thats amazing.

I’m going to apply to Columbia University next year for 2013. Maybe I’ll be living in new york…

My love life is a whole other post though…

Whose the girl? Is this truth? Or is he writing fiction?


Originally posted to FB on Febuary 14,2010

I miss you. I miss talking to you. I miss everything about you. I want to be in your bed again. In your arms again. Lights off, heat up, wrapped in sheets of silk. nothing between us, nothing holding back. Your body against mines, our skins blending as one.

Your arm around me, sweat dripping, but that’s okay, because I like it anyway.

And I watch you as you sleep. You look so sound, so at ease. And I can tell you trust me, and that puts my mind at ease. You fall alseep, so alseep that you snore.

I hate snoring. I despise the sound, but for some reason, yours is soothing.

I drift off into a nother land when I’m with you, and i sleep the best sleep I have ever slept.

I’ve never felt so perfect and innocent, than when I’m with you.

And i wake up, look at my phone, you stir, hair a mess.

Our thighs were intertwined, so we’re both kinda sweaty and gross.

You get up, naked.

I look at your body, my eyes studying your perfect form. God could have not made a more perfect boy. I love every inch of you. That beauty mark on the back of your…

You tell me to turn away and not look as you go to the bathroom, because I had told you the same the previous night when i got up naked.

I obey, but peek through my fingers. I love your shoulders.

We get dressed, brush our teeth. I come out of the bathroom, and stretch out my arms and yawn.

“Better now?” you ask.

“mhmm, very.” I say.

I walk up to you, look up and into your eyes, you pause, I take my hand, put it up to your face, and I kiss you. I pull away,I linger for a bit, taking all of you in… then grab my coat, and we’re heading out, to have our day.