Last autumn, I stole an acorn. Or rescued one, depending on your point of view. Adopted, salvaged, liberated. Pick one. Or don’t. Either way. The point is, I was walking home from work and found an acorn on the ground. Since this was in the city and any acorns that manage to sprout are mercilessly … Continue reading Baby Groot
He falls asleep when the sun sets, and I cradle him in my arms as I watch the last of the light fade from between the buildings, the deserted streets. The sky grows black, cold against the color of a rising moon. I leave the window at last and lay him down in the sports … Continue reading Lullabies
Some books are difficult to read. I won’t deny that. There are some stories in history that people would rather forget. Evil is a definite part of our past, and I think it is easier for us to swallow in fantasy, TV, and fiction than it is in stories that ring true. We’d rather have … Continue reading Schindler’s List
The sky is dark when we take the trails to the caves. The trees hang over the path, stirring restlessly in the cold wind, and I can hear the ghosts whispering among their leaves. I don’t like to leave so early, not when the sun is still hidden behind the mountains, but we have a … Continue reading Oyster Diving
I do not have as much time to read as I used to. Does anyone else have this problem? Life gets busy, work piles up, deadlines loom . . . and things slip through the cracks. Bills have to be paid, the car needs an oil change, and if you don’t go to work in … Continue reading Crooked House
They come when the moon is dark and the desert is silent. Sand Raiders from the south. They come to kill, to steal our sheep and our cattle, our women and children. They burn our tents and murder our men, and what can we do? Nothing. We are not fighters, my father says. We can … Continue reading Sand Raiders
This week’s story does not belong to me. That’s right. I am unashamedly posting another author’s work on my blog. Not sharing a post, not passing on a link, but posting her story on my blog. Let me explain. As artists, creators, and authors, we all began somewhere. We began with handwritten stories that we … Continue reading Supporting Young Authors
A few months ago, my little sister came to me and insisted that I read The Witches. It was, she informed me, the creepiest book she had ever read in her entire life, and I need to read it as soon as humanly possible. Given that she is twelve, a great reader, and a remarkably … Continue reading The Witches
Ramblings of an Obsessive Bookworm 