Author Archives

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

• No Plot? No Problem!

  By Bill Pearse on May 1, 2015 • ( 35 )

  I bought this book by the guy who started the National Novel Writing Month, an annual project in November to encourage people who want to write a book to produce a first draft in just one month. A 50,000 word… Read More ›

• Chance meeting, Mr. Zhang

  By Bill Pearse on April 29, 2015 • ( 13 )

  Today I met Mr. Zhang at the park. He passed us once then returned a second time and pulled up a seat. He was a non-person to me before he stopped, we got to know each other through words. I… Read More ›

• The spirit begat you

  By Bill Pearse on April 29, 2015 • ( 5 )

  

  The old fishermen who gather on the docks in the early morning bundled, bent over, drawing out line and outfitted with plastic bags and baseball caps The sky clouds trees, The water reminds us there is more than ourselves and that’s why… Read More ›

• Put away for safe-keeping

  By Bill Pearse on April 26, 2015 • ( 2 )

  That first night you turned your back and my arm fell off in bed, we were made statues then like brittle, precious things put away for safe-keeping, hard to move.

• When the sun came through my window

  By Bill Pearse on April 25, 2015 • ( 7 )

  

  The backs of the butterfly wings caught fire and it was a deep-blooded copper glow when the sun came through my window, the backs, and it has come to represent so much more, the stained glass pane my mom and… Read More ›

• Putting the man in project management

  By Bill Pearse on April 24, 2015 • ( 21 )

  The weather has been like a Greek play and I don’t understand what’s going on, one moment it’s calm and there’s singing, the next it’s like the world will end. And you would have thought with all this fussiness I… Read More ›

• The handlebar mustache sequence

  By Bill Pearse on April 23, 2015 • ( 21 )

  The English professor looked like a smaller version of David Crosby. Like if you let the air out of David Crosby, that’s what he’d look like. Except they let too much out of his face, to where the cheekbones looked… Read More ›

• I don’t know what I like, but I know art

  By Bill Pearse on April 23, 2015 • ( 1 )

  

  Originally posted on Drinking Tips for Teens:
  $10,000 please. Gallery Parsnippy is delighted and positively damp with pleasure as we present new artistic works in our spring show. “Zoltan’s Anvil” by Trevor Sproud – mixed media Free at last, free…

• Implied rooms

  By Bill Pearse on April 22, 2015 • ( 2 )

  There is no part of me I can leave without seeing myself still, as I get smaller on the shore. I move about my space wondering at the edges as a toddler fans the border, at what keeps us inside. And… Read More ›

• The adolescent love scene

  By Bill Pearse on April 17, 2015 • ( 26 )

  

  My 10-year-old daughter has her first crush. It’s not her first, and it’s not a crush she’s quick to correct, but her face changes and a flurry of filters go up when she talks about him, which inclines me to… Read More ›