Jim the Writer

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Tony’s baby

Parenthood hit Tony Lawson like a summer storm. Yes, very much like that. A sudden, unexpected stroke of fury, a violent collision of opposing fronts. "Tony, you jerk, meet your son." The sky was cloudless above the executive lot, but the air crackled around the words. Tony fumbled his iPhone, and it fell toward the brilliant concrete. He caught it, held …

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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 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 …

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 …

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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Homecoming

Lord Galt’s return to the Castle of the Mountain Kingdom was sudden and unexpected. It had to be so. The King had been vocal in his criticism of his uncle. His words stopped short of condemnation, and yet were poison in the minds of his loyal subjects. He may as well have pronounced the Syllables of …

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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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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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