So, I've been trying to find the right words to express myself lately. You'd think, with all the extra time on my hands, that I'd be writing up a storm. That my keyboard would be summoning wizards and dinosaurs and scary little girls who come out of bath tubs. After all, every author says "If I only had more time." Hell, I've said that plenty over the years. If I only had more time, I'd write the next Great American Novel. If only I had more time, I'd write a best-seller and

Although I'm always trying to find time to write, I also love taking pictures. I caught the photography bug back in my college days while in the Journalism program at UW-Oshkosh. Back then, we had dark rooms and chemicals and red rooms. It was always amazing to watch my pictures slowly appear on blank papers. These days, of course, we all have high-tech cameras right on our phones and taking pictures has never been easier. Still, it's one thing to snap a pic of a plate of foo

My toothpaste has water in it This may seem like a strange statement to you. It’s not like it’s something you hear every day. But you need to understand this is the truth. For some reason, my toothpaste has water in it. So much that whenever I squeeze the tube, little bubbles pop out as the toothpaste splurms onto my toothbrush. It’s disconcerting. Toothpaste should not splurm. It should splat properly. But somehow, water got into the tube and now I have splurmy paste every t

Authors like to play around with time. Time travel. Past lives. Future dreams. Even a fairly straightforward narrative still massages time. Time jumps. Flashbacks. Co-current events. I think that most of us have an uneasy relationship with time. On the one hand, it seems easy. Tick tock. tick tock. The clock never stops. We know the sun comes up, moves across the sky and sinks in the west. Day becomes night becomes day. Spring leads into summer and so on. And yet...AND YET it

So I'm not really the type that leaves notes to myself. At least not at home. At work I have all sorts of notes but that's only because I am responsible for keeping track of a zillion details. And my writing, of course. Lots of random notes there. In journals and notebooks and sticky notes on the desk. But that's only because I have different plot points and characters to keep tabs on. Ok, ok. Fine, I write notes. But, I don't really write notes for everyday stuff. No "don't

“Ooh, he’s cute!” I shrugged. “Yeah. But he’s a five.” “A five? Really?” “Yeah.” “Wow. That’s too bad.” “Right?” “What do you think they are?” I thought for a second, letting my gaze linger on the man’s well-defined arms and pecs. He was standing near the bar. I could only see three-quarters of his face. But what I could see was classically handsome; strong jawline, thick eyebrows, just a hint of scruff. “What’s your number?” I replied. Jamie laughed. “Dis. Connected.” I gave

It was a beautiful day for a funeral. A few wispy clouds floated care-free high in the sky. A breeze, just cool enough, meandered over the freshly-cut lawn. A clutch of sparrows gossiped among the leaves. All in all, you couldn’t have ask for a better day to bury someone. Ian checked the smile that threatened to lighten his face. He glanced furtively to the left and right to make sure no one saw. Smiling at funerals, he knew, was not proper. He lowered his head and trie

It has been said, although I have neither the time nor the inclination to verify it, that goldfish do not grow old. That is not to say that they are immortal. They can be caught by playful kittens. They can be eaten by bigger, stronger fish. They can catch diseases and die. But in the absence of such circumstances, a goldfish simply continues to live. Its body does not break down. Its internal systems do not shut off. Its muscles do not atrophy and waste away. It simply conti

Is this the year I read a book Is this the year I build a clock Is this the year I say “Hi” to my neighbor And learn who lives around my block? Is this the year I plant a garden Is this the year I adopt a dog Is this the year I stop smoking And get out of my druggy fog? Is this the year I buy a house Is this the year I bike, not drive Is this the year I climb a mountain Or into the ocean I finally dive? Is this the year I give leftovers to the homeless Is this the year I volu