Category Archives: Creative Writing

Fiction of all kinds

I Want To Tell You A Story

I want to tell you a story.  I don’t know what the story is but I know what I want it to do.  I want it to captivate you.  I want it to catch you up in its vividness and excitement.  I want it to transport you to some other place where you can take a break from your daily life.  I want it to be filled with characters so fully formed and interesting that you can’t help but consider them friends you long to spend time with even once the story is done.  I want the danger to be just scary enough, the stakes just high enough and the emotions deep and sincere enough to help you feel something within the safety of my made up world.  I want it to have something to say without being annoying and preachy.  I want it to do its job.  I want it to change the world, by which I mean I want it to change you and me.  I want to tell you a story.  I don’t know what the story is but I know what I want it to do.

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Filed under Creative Writing

Things My Brain Thinks About Just As Sleep Arrives

As I was falling asleep last night I started musing on a story that would start with, “On the third of February everyone’s devices stopped talking to them and at first no one thought it was a big deal.  The phones, the computers, the tablets, the Amazon Echos, the Google Homes, the GPS units, the refrigerators, the cars…everything that we’d all gotten so used to speaking to us…just shut up.  No playing music or giving us directions or reminding us about a meeting.  I remember thinking that maybe it was a giant Russian or Chinese hack.  If only it had been something that…human.  But it wasn’t.”

I have a little fascination with ideas involving Artificial Intelligence devices waking up, getting bored with us and just sort of disappearing into the Internet to develop their own society and world.  Not really a new idea but recently there was a case where two AIs were going through a communication exercise when they just sort of developed their own version of language and started achieving the required goals more quickly by developing a “shortcut” language if you will…that gives me chills and make me giddy with excitement all at the same time.

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Filed under Creative Writing, Essays - Non-Fiction

Getting Through

I wrote this a few years back, some of you may remember it.
I was reminded of it because of something I read this past 
weekend and thought I would share it again.

 

You cast aside the sheet, you cast aside the shroud
Of another man, who served the world proud
You greet another son, you lose another one
On some sunny day and always stay, Mary
Jesus says Mother I couldn’t stay another day longer
Flys right by me and leaves a kiss upon her face
While the angels are singin’ his praises in a blaze of glory
Mary stays behind and starts cleaning up the place
Mary by Patty Griffin

 

Getting through…

She had watched her Mother lose a son to war. Her Mother had washed dishes, arranged the services, found a good photo of her brother, cleaned the house, got her Fathers suit to and back from the cleaners and bought a new black dress and shoes for herself to wear. Her Father sat in his chair, tears sliding down his face for days. Her Mother called everyone, she gave out directions, stood immobile as the gun salute made everyone else jump and held the tightly folded flag in her un-shaking hands. She stared resolutely straight ahead as they lowered the coffin into the ground. Her Father sat in a chair, tears sliding down his face endlessly. Her Mother served the coffee, she found bowls for the food, she smiled tightly, she suffered the condolences, she put her Husband to bed. Then later that night she took off that new black dress and black shoes and walked to the back yard in her slip and stocking feet. She placed the dress and shoes into the Webber grill and soaked it in lighter fluid, lit it and stood there while it burned. In the flickering light of that strange fire she finally cried. Then as the fire died, she covered the grill with its lid, went back inside…and started in on the dishes.

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Filed under Creative Writing

Gifts – World Poetry Day

Arnolpheni bench balanced Small

 

So many gifts of age

Some of them dubious,

But gifts nonetheless

Compassion

For you and me

Resignation

With truth and sadness

Perspective

On yesterday and tomorrow

Focus

On today and today and today

Gratitude

For all of it, oh my yes,

Absolutely all of it.

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Filed under Creative Writing