Writings
Art
Writings
A bookworm by nature, an English major by education, and a writer by compulsion, I've been writing various things ever since I can remember. These are divided into several different (excuse the word) genres. They are:
Fiction
I've been doodling around with fiction ever since I started reading Ray Bradbury way back in the ninth grade. (One of the best days of my life, incidentally. Just bought The Beatles' White Album and the Bradbury's Martian Chronicles and devoured them in one fantastically feverish night.) While not the most impressive work around, there's some merit to be found in these little stories, if only to witness the odd goings on in my head. Hey, at least i'm not subjecting you to my unfinished novel... ;)
- A Short Story. For a few months,
I held a small-time job at the Albuquerque
Journal in the hopes of turning it into a full-time writing career.
It ended quickly when I realized I didn't have the talent, work-ethic,
nor stomach for journalism. However, I did have a lot of free time on
my hands, so I used to write stream-of-consciousness post cards to my
friends. I saved a few and compiled them together. This was a lot of
fun to do and what I consider the best thing I've ever written.
- Spiders. This is a short story I
wrote as a sophomore at UVM
for Tim Brooks'
creative writing class. I have no idea where it came from, although
being a heavy drinker at the time may have contributed to the desire
to let repressed emotions loose. I have to apologize to Richard
Cormier for stealing the phrase "and my hands crawl like spiders
across the desk" from his fantastic novel "After
the First Death" which inspired many high school fantasies and,
even now, pop up, unbidden, into my head from time to time. Worse things
have happened.
- Cafeteria. Many of us took advantage
of college to shake off the conventions of high school and experiment
with your personality - some more then others, of course. I lived too
close to home to make that much of a change (that would come with some
years living in New Mexico),
but I always really admired people that had the courage to try on new
personalities like they would their clothes. Plus, it was impressive
when people would just show up radically different one day. Aside from
experimenting with facial hair, I was never one of them, despite my
fantasies of dying my hair blue. Here we have a sophomore attempt to
explain how disorienting this phenomenon can be, from back when I didn't
know enough about myself to realize why I was fascinated with it. Perhaps
I'll rewrite this someday.
Poems
I'm not a poet. I don't spend hours searching for just the right word, nor do I have an ear that's finely tuned to the music that can be inherent in good writing. What I do have are these little sing-songy poems that occasionally jump into my head, usually unbidden, and always when I'm alone. The less embarrassing efforts are included here.
- Hiking in the rain, Pisgah State Park, New Hampshire, 2003. A perfect example of how I write poetry. I took the day off of work so I could take a solo hike in Pisgah State Park. I hadn't been on a hike in months and it was driving me crazy, so I made the drive to the southwest corner of New Hampshire despite the bad weather. Once in the woods, there wasn't much to see due to the fog and rain, so I just walked, thought and sipped Scotch. When I got to the top of one of the little mountains, this poem had already worked itself out. I only changed two words when I got home to fix the cadence.
- Mountain Biking in Las Crusas, NM, 1997. Written by campfire on Lake Ontario during my drive back from New Mexico. Inspired by Mary Ann, one of my closest friends, who turned me onto mountain biking.
