Jim the Writer

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Two Boys, a Girl, and a Fire

Paul and I drew water from the lake in plastic buckets and dumped it on the coals. Steam rolled skyward. From her perch on a nearby log, Susie clapped. Paul lifted his bucket as if to throw water on her. "Don't you dare!" Susie darted away across the sand as he chased her with the empty bucket. I guess that was when I knew. So it was no big surprise when she …

On the Burma Road

Mr. Jenkins disliked me on sight. That was surprising. I'm as pleasant as the next guy, and he couldn't see well. "I can smell a Jap a mile away," he said. "How I survived." I ignored the slur. "Ready for your walk, sir?" …

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The Parisian Sky

In the Latin Quarter, we were given a dusky room with an alley view. I frowned. I grumbled. "The room is dismal," I told the proprietor. "It looks nothing like your website." He was as old as the cobblestones. …

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Fragment of a memoir

"The thing is," Papa said, "everybody gets that story wrong. They always think the baby died." "Well, sure," I said. "What else?" Papa shook his head. "The baby didn't die. The mother doesn't want the shoes." He finished his gin martini and motioned to the barkeep for another. The fan turned …

The rising cost of love

Two years ago, he'd given her a St. Bernard with a cask of peppermint schnapps clipped to its collar. She’d given him a white pickup the size of house. Last year, he’d bought vehicles for both of them. She grabbed the giant black truck, leaving him the little red SUV. This Christmas, he …

What Else You Can’t Do

He had no music in him, never had. In fourth grade, before the Christmas pageant, a desperate teacher ordered him to lip-sync "The Little Drummer Boy." Decades later, a grown man, it still made him sad. "You can't dance," a woman told him over the booming bass at a grad school party. "It makes me …

If the gods be merciful

The good people of Kal were fixing to burn another witch. The event would close the Festival of the Tyrant’s Demise. “Third one this week,” Proffer said as we watched the wood-stack grow. “They must like the smell. The evil--” “Judge not, lest you be judged,” I said hastily. And in a lower voice: …

About me

As you have probably figured out, my name is Jim and I am a writer. For many years, I was a college writing teacher, too -- among many other life roles. I have another, more popular blog called Life After Carbs. It's about losing weight on a reduced carbohydrate diet. And it's about me -- my favorite …

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El Morro

The Desire to Leave a Mark ... El Morro (the headland) stands in western New Mexico, and is also known as Inscription Rock. At the base of El Morro is a pool of water that for centuries attracted parched travelers to the spot, many of whom carved dates, names, and messages (including petroglyphs) into the …

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