Author Archives

Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.

• Deceiver Trail to Far Country Lookout

  By Bill Pearse on May 26, 2016 • ( 15 )

  

  I took the Deceiver Trail, the S3, past the Licorice Fern cul-de-sac to a crumpled-up viewpoint where there wasn’t much to see but it sounded nice with the water collecting in a dark pool by a leaning sign, Far Country… Read More ›

• A guest post by William Pearse (pinklightsabre)

  By Bill Pearse on May 25, 2016 • ( 9 )

  

  Originally posted on WHAT THE HELL:
  I’m happy to offer a guest post today by pinklightsabre — otherwise known as William Pearse. If you’re not reading Pinklightsabre’s Blog regularly, you’re missing out on some of the best writing on (or…

• Sunday’s solemn features

  By Bill Pearse on May 24, 2016 • ( 16 )

  

  We got back to our vitamins, raw almonds, coconut milk — shopping for the best price on gas, how the clouds cling to the hills on a Sunday morning, the treetops tucked in, gone back to sleep. Even though it’s… Read More ›

• Fortune presents gifts not according to the book

  By Bill Pearse on May 20, 2016 • ( 9 )

  

  That last Tuesday in Germany I had two Xanax I’d saved from the flight last summer and took one when I got back from the artist Matthias’s house, found our place a shit-storm of packing and bad energy and realized Dawn… Read More ›

• Fantastic Erratic: on muses, flow, and writing in spurts

  By Bill Pearse on May 19, 2016 • ( 20 )

  

  When I started blogging, I posted for the first three years without a single visitor, not even my mom. It didn’t matter because, a.) I didn’t really understand (and wasn’t interested in) social media, b.) I didn’t think my writing… Read More ›

• Perfect from now on

  By Bill Pearse on May 17, 2016 • ( 13 )

  I got an email from Loren at work complaining about Gilles, the fact he kept walking around Loren and Christine’s apartment in just his bath towel, that it was bumming Christine out as Loren put it — and I pictured… Read More ›

• We are all just prisoners here of our own device

  By Bill Pearse on May 15, 2016 • ( 16 )

  

  I turned right on the N6 past the Klondike Marsh, past Clay Pit Road, past the grate-covered mine shaft, the cave holes shown on the map. I met my hair stylist outside my old building where I worked and we… Read More ›

• I restarted a song called ‘Song with no ending’

  By Bill Pearse on May 13, 2016 • ( 0 )

  

  When you died a million deaths did you notice any, or did you just build over the same places?  

• The visual voicemail data fetching problem at the AT&T kiosk

  By Bill Pearse on May 12, 2016 • ( 21 )

  

  I wore a T-shirt I bought in Vienna with a corruption of the Starbucks logo that said Austrian Beer instead, that turned the fins on the siren into bottle openers and replaced the face in the middle with a pilsener… Read More ›

• Not just another drop in the ocean

  By Bill Pearse on May 10, 2016 • ( 17 )

  

  I took the trail to Shy Bear Pass, the same one in the Issaquah Alps I walked with Ginger last spring, before we moved to Germany. I looked down at my legs, the zip-off trekking pants and poles Eberhard had… Read More ›