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The Writer's Block: August 2012
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Qui scribit bis legit. Sunday, August 26, 2012. Removed for submission to magazine. Saturday, August 25, 2012. Breaking Eclipse of the Twighlit Moon. Friday, August 24, 2012. Ripples in the stream. Come now back to me. Reflections in the dream. Come now back to me. The tearing at the seam. Come now back to me. The tearing of the dream. Come now back to me. With the bone and with the scream. Come now back to me. With the malice and the steam. Come now back to me. Lovers' quarrels soon do heal. It's cover ...
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The Writer's Block: July 2012
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Qui scribit bis legit. Sunday, July 15, 2012. Criminal Archives: Tape 39. Please state your name.". You already know my name. Please state your name. For the sake of the record.". Angela. Angela Hubbard. Alright well. Here goes. Let's see. I guess I should start by saying that I shouldn't be proud of what I did. I know I should feel bad. That I should feel sorry. But in all honesty I won't be apologizing. Because I don't feel like I did anything wrong. Proceed to the description of the victim.". Fine but...
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The Writer's Block: February 2013
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Qui scribit bis legit. Friday, February 22, 2013. What Time Is This. What time is it? Time to run out and find the second hands. Does it even matter that we are waking a line. Counting down on a timer. If only I was talking about life and not something so much more painful. Because annuals bloom annually. And taxes ruin each April flower. While the grains of sand keep dancing down. And some things die too quickly now. What year is it? It feels like its been 1969 for far too long. And fall into the floor.
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The Writer's Block: October 2013
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Qui scribit bis legit. Monday, October 14, 2013. A Review of Neil Gaiman's "The Ocean at the End of the Lane". A Review of Neil Gaiman's. The Ocean at the End of the Lane". And then he decided to write a short story- that became a novel- called "The Ocean at the End of the Lane". At face value it is the story of a memory. A memory that has been lost and is then regained. A memory of childhood horrors, of broken promises, and of magic. It is the memory of a child. Told by a man. And th...Children see more...
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The Writer's Block: When the Fog Hangs Over Old London Town
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Qui scribit bis legit. Thursday, November 14, 2013. When the Fog Hangs Over Old London Town. When the Fog Hangs Over Old London Town. The door slammed opened as Louisa ran down the stairs and into the embracing arms of the foggy night. Tears streaked down her face, and her breath came in ragged gasps. Behind her, she heard the heavy footsteps of his boots on the cobblestones. But the thick fog of the night enfolded her deep in its oily arms, and he lost sight of her. Louisa, come back! 8220;Well, you kno...
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The Writer's Block: January 2013
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Qui scribit bis legit. Tuesday, January 29, 2013. What We Saw in the Epilogues. Shall I speak again. Of that old familiar feeling. The apropos of desire. The emptiness of getting what you asked for. But whose fault will it be today. You look around the room that's empty. Void of empathy and pain. And the desire to do anything at all. Again I shall sing. Of the void in the place called joy. The fear of feeling unfulfillment. When you've finally found success. The joy is in the journey. In an empty room.
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The Writer's Block: December 2012
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Qui scribit bis legit. Monday, December 3, 2012. The Girl in the Ghost House - Chapter 4. 8220;Oh, deary. Looks like it left again.” Lacrymosa sighed before laughing, “That was a very good try. But maybe next time deary, you should try aiming for it instead of the stairs.”. 8220;Oh, I’m sorry. I’ve made you mad, haven’t I? 8221; Lacrymosa said and began to sniff, “I always do that. Make other people sad or mad. It’s not nearly as fun as when I make people happy.”. Girl in the ghost house. Novel in a month.
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The Writer's Block: September 2013
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Qui scribit bis legit. Monday, September 23, 2013. Three Short Stories: Alice in La-La-Land, The Changeling, The Head and the Body. Or, The Space Between Raindrops). She walks- unseen through the rows of cars humming in quiet unison, a hymn of the asphalt snakes that coil at the heart of the city. 8220;Hey, hey you, there. With the bow. What do you think you’re doing? You could have been killed! 8220;Are you even listening? You need to watch where you’re going! 8220;Hey, are you okay? 8220;No, no, no!
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The Writer's Block: September 2012
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Qui scribit bis legit. Friday, September 28, 2012. I have long thought. Once called my heart. Departed by the door. That opens only once. For each peasant and king. And closes on the charnel steps. And yet even now. In night's velvet embrace. With soft whisper you approach. On feather tips so assured. What can I say now? Shall I cast thee out? Now at the moment when. Thy blossoms finally have. Broken through the ice. So frigid and with torpidless kiss. Breathed by Boriads of my past. Not mine to keep.
