Line Break

blog post
It is time for a one post break in my series of short stories not accepted by journals for publication. You know I’ve posted 12 and have at least 4 more. I’m also thinking about posting some I’ve never sent it.



It’s not too difficult to opinionize some of the things my octogenarian mind wonders about, but all too many opinions these days seem to trigger some sort of oral rath or revenge. So, you ask, what is it that you wonder about which might trigger the above said?

Plants, political signs, and placards: Did you ever have to creep onto a crossroad because one of these or perhaps one of each blocks your view of traffic coming from your left? I have and that’s a fact not an opinion.

I have several pet peeves, but none of them shed hair or poop in the yard. Don’t get me wrong, in my opinion, having a pet peeve does not mean I’m against other people’s having pets of a different kind. It’s much like expressing favor for something is not a negative statement against something someone else likes.

Just an observation here: Don’t confuse my observations as fact or opinion. Weeds seem to grow where vegetables will not, and rabbits or bugs don’t eat weeds. OK, OK! I mean no put-down to those who make wine with or eat dandelion greens. A flock of Starlings visit frequently and apparently eat grubs from my lawn. Why don’t grubs eat the roots of Creeping Charlie?

About editors: A good editor helps a writer make the best presentation of his/her story without making it the editor’s story. I’m sure there is little room for controversy with that.
So, if you are interested, and even if not, here are some lines from my books.

Nescient Decoy: “Paranoia can be a good defense, but it is truly bothersome.”

Echoes of Nam: “Do you ever think seriously about sound or smell? Does a memory of either, or both, echo in your mind like the words to Simon and Garfunkel’s Sound of Silence, and give you angst, or did they just dwell in your mind at night?”

Before Grandpa was Thirteen: The first place I remember after North Dakota is Butte, Montana. I was four and a half years old in the summer of 1941.

Iniquities of The Fathers: {Twelve-year-old} “Levi took another drink and waited for the warming and numbness he expected to come over him before writing a note to his mother and commencing his plan.”

Game Time: A Week in October: “Sharie teased the cat with the catnip toy and threw it under the couch. You’ll do lotsa things for that stuff won’t you Stripe? Feeling good is what it’s all about.”

My current project is a historical novel/novella about a young Russian[mfn]The fictious protagonist.[/mfn] aid to Count Nikolai Rezanov and events leading to the settlement of Ft. Ross, CA. Current chapter one first line: “It was three hours after sunset, if the sun had been visible that day.”

As my octogenarianism continues, my mind wanders as I wonder.
Or could it be that my mind wonders as I wander?
It is a fact that I have opinions – or is it?