Author Archives
Bill Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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‘The best Defence Against the Dark Arts’
I asked Lily to write the word beautiful in her journal and then draw an X through it. I said be careful about using this word in your writing (she used it twice in the same paragraph), and we talked… Read More ›
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Stepping out of the lines
Summer ends so fast here it’s like they’re taking down a theatre set and replacing it with autumn, overnight. Eberhard has a saying, «I’m a man, I fix things» — and he lets the words hang over me like mist,… Read More ›
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Coming to terms with the F word
OK, so I failed at my last job. That’s true, at least it is to me, but the word is so hard for some they won’t let me say it — they shake their heads and insist it’s something else,… Read More ›
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The Thane of Cawdor stole my log-in
Our kids threw a mild hissy fit about not being in the States for Halloween, complaining they’d gotten gypped, or in Germany — where the holiday’s just caught on — instead, we’ll be somewhere in Scotland, hopefully near a castle,… Read More ›
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First day of school in Germany, take 2
Starting our year of homeschooling today was like a kick-off meeting for a big project: give them a little information, get them engaged, show them a plan, have them leave the room excited. Start and end on time. And as… Read More ›
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The importance of turning back
In the first draft of my memoir, which I left behind in the States because it has a bad energy objects sometimes can, I began with a scene from 1993 that traces the start of my career to its source,… Read More ›
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Cooking French in southern Germany
Competitive beer drinking season has started here in the south of Germany, or maybe never ended, and I celebrated today with a traditional Bavarian lederhosen purchase, made from real cow hide if we’re translating it right, and I look nothing… Read More ›
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The Cryptogram post
Wolf prepares the Käse Spaetzle by himself in the kitchen while his partner Bernd smokes handrolled cigarettes out by the barn, even though we insist he smoke where Eberhard does, in the dining area. Mom worries about their relationship, how… Read More ›
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The problem with the Internet is it never turns off
I had to watch myself on Skype last night, which was hard. The beard’s gotten so long it gets in the way of my food, I get moustache hairs in my meat which feels barbaric — and unemployed now for… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 