Monterey Bay Aquarium
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hello vonnie
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
Doug Jones
Interview Vampire Daily
RMH
Xuebing Du
The Stonewall Inn
noise dept.
Andulka
Product Placement
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TMBGareOK. The Official They Might Be Giants tumblr
Keni
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EXPECTATIONS
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Mike Driver
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@inturruptingcow
Unhappened Stories
Beauty and regret over a long lost conversation...
I often wish I had made the effort to enjoy music with my grandmother when she was alive. On lazy days my vinyl treasures blast Tommy Dorsey, Glen Miller, and Count Basie, with singers from that era. I wonder what facial expressions would grandmother have made, what tapping of a foot or shake of a finger. I crack a bittersweet smile. A slippery clarinet reminds me how I might have entertained…
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... Long Live the King
Somebody told me to write three characters he would love. Why is this the first one I wrote?
I nudged the lever with the outside of my wrist to to turn the water on in the upstairs bathroom. I was careful ceramic tile counter top. Lord knows how tough it is to get any kind of dirt stains out of the grout, no less painful blood, I was guessing. A whirring sounded in the pipes from the ground floor and, before I could trace its path, it was drowned out by the spurt of water, a projectile…
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Fight with a Clock and Reality
Fight with a Clock and Reality
At first glance, the room was nothing special. An open floor space of living room, dining area, and kitchen shared a floor of burnt orange Tuscany tiles; a wall of windows covered in cloth beige blinds smudged the room’s colors with filtered sunlight. A worn area carpet covered the majority of the living room space, tufts of cat hair unevenly adorned the geometric patterns of maroon, blue, and…
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A Meditation on Shadows
Rain delivered shadows insinuating their way into my style on a Saturday afternoon.
The rain poured out of nowhere like the soothing brush of hands against the skin of the house, strengthening into a rake of tiny hailstones so as to scratch the apparent itch in the metal roof tiles and mossy skylights. Tendrils of hail – pin pricks to a nasty rash – buffeted the house and sparkled in tiny bounces off the deck rails giving testament to their purposeful pressure treatment for a…
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Anger on the Other Side
Timed writing on a cold groggy morning leads to unexpected journey to an alternate universe.
[This is what happens when you follow the sage advice of other writers and force yourself to write non-stop for ten minutes on a day when you don’t feel like writing. You jump onto the first thing that enters your mind and riff.] I’m cold in a cold house with lukewarm tea. I sit here listening to a rotating vinyl disc with the voice of a man I don’t know speaking truths I’ve not lived (other…
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I Dreamed I Was Harry Nilsson
I Dreamed I Was Harry Nilsson
If I could just get in front of a microphone and grow a beard I’d be a hit. They’d drink their beers and fruity concoctions and hear tales in stream of consciousness rhyme, like ee cummings with no capitals. Maybe I’d strum some guitar strings or pull out a harmonica for a bluesy bridge with soul, or a tangent of hardship so heartbreaking everyone would pull out packs of Marlboros and light…
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Squirrel Noise Avoidance
How to escape – through a door, past shelves, leave the light off and feel my way – until laughs and voices become murmurs and static with muffled volume rises and falls and darkness becomes the womb. Will I find you there? Will you share secrets again and fill my breath with excitement and what is close to truth without church and rules, judgements and eyes – looking, staring, noses being…
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#NaNoWriMo Best of the Daily (Day 3, 2015)
#NaNoWriMo Best of the Daily (Day 3, 2015)
The weather was agnostic. There was no commitment to any particular sort of forecast, not even short term, except for the leaves. Those things couldn’t hold water. The trees were showing their colors. Ditches on both sides of the road spilled over with their fallen vestiges, and the skies made their cards known with clouds, as still as ever, dark but not foreboding, standing sentry duty. No…
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#NaNoWriMo 2nd Verse, Same as the First
#NaNoWriMo 2nd Verse, Same as the First
Keep in mind, the purpose of WriMo is to write, not edit. Editing is for December … or January if you’re still finishing in December. Point is, I’m not editing these “snippets” before I post them. There will be no “set up” for the scenes. Just raw, unadulterated, first draft train wreck coming at you for the next 29 days. If that sounds familiar, you may recall my NaNoWriMo posts from last…
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Another NaNoWriMo! Who is With Me!?
Another NaNoWriMo! Who is With Me!?
Today starts that crazy 30 days of scratching your brain and rearranging your daily schedules to find the time and discipline to crank out 1660 words a day, or a whopping 50K words for the National Novel Writing Month. I have participated for several years and finally made the count last year. Anyone can play (I’m smirking), so check out the website at nanowrimo.org and get started. I don’t…
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The “I remember …” Writing Prompt I remember … a voice. Soft and low, it beckoned me from my sleep. My eyes were reluctant.
Nurture is just as important as nature in the writing craft. Marge scratches her head in the midst of the last remaining place of business where smoking is allowed, “The Everyone and their Mama Meeting Place Bar and Internet Lounge.” The dank odor is already permeating her heavy overcoat, a vital accessory since the owner saves money by not turning on the central air unit.
Lead by the Leader Who Leads Me to Lead
Lead by the Leader Who Leads Me to Lead
Just an update to those who might be wondering – “Was this just another leap of hope off a cliff of effort lacking?” I did jump. I was free-falling for about two months and finally found my wings at month three. I added about 20K (after editing) to my working novel and about another 10K total across three other active projects. At month four I faced a moral dilemma in my cloud-puffed dream…
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My Romance with Green
The rain, it spilled out onto the green and brown velvet an iced doughnut of foliage and flower in my yard beckons me from books and house leads me to the floor and twirls me round rings my fingers with dirt lace wonders collide sun peeks garden
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Where From Art Thou?
I had a thought this week about the core of a writer’s inspiration or drive. I used to think there were a few writers that went about their art in an orderly fashion, making little piles and sticky notes of ideas and dreams, thoughts and overheard quirkiness, and they would eventually sit themselves down and make something of these. I couldn’t relate to those folks. I thought I was part of the…
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A Taurus Fable
For those of you with birthdays in May, we bulls must moo together. To that end I give you this contribution.
In the land of Knoll Idg, in the home of Fender Blowhard there was a gathering. Hurry Feathers was telling stories about some of Worm Wood’s family and having a grand time of it. His claim that Bugs Fudd was actually the illegitimate child of Wiley Coyote had a small group in the…
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