Jim the Writer

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Bend, Don’t Break

That fall, Mark coached pee-wee football. On offense, his philosophy was "three-yards-and-a-cloud-of-dust." Most plays, three yards turned out to be wishful thinking; so did hanging on to the ball. On defense, his philosophy was "bend-but-don't-break." The kids didn't want to be bent or broken, and mostly got out of the way. The team lost its first three …

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Lights

A young lieutenant sat with his back against a stone wall and his shirt front soaked through with blood. He was bare-headed, and looked about fifteen. He stared up at Gunther. "Lights," he whispered. Something like that. …

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Yes, Today

It was my day to drive. Nature provided a misty rain for our 50-mile commute. I didn’t focus on Neilsen until I had backed the car to the bottom of his driveway. I slammed the brake. “What the hell is that?” Neilsen turned toward me. He was wearing a hard-shell, full-face mask. Black, with big …

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Ship

"Ship, tell me a story," the traveler commanded. "Long or short, sir?" asked a disembodied contralto. "Short. I grow sleepy." "Happy? Sad?" "Happy. I desire a pleasant hibernation." "Very well. There once was a gentle woman who loved a man from Autumn World." "I …

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The Cross Roads

Looks good, don't he? Like he could sit up and tell a story. Ol' Terry knew a few! He wanted to write, you know. No, I never saw him with the arm, either. Yeah. In the war. The Hürtgen Forest, 1944. Same day he crossed paths with Hemingway. Sure, the author! Funny story. Terry's hugging the ground …

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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: …

Love and the Summer Night

He was a peasant, a man of the soil. Or so he claimed. She never believed him. He owned a farm house, but someone else owned the barn and fields. His hands were huge and strong, but sensitive. A potter's hands. "You're an artist," she said. "Admit it." They were in bed, katydids singing through the …

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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