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

  • Put things back

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    I’ve been carrying around this Pendaflex of old writing for years, and yesterday I made the mistake of getting it out. I haven’t read most of it since it was written, dating back to 1992. Once you start, it’s hard… Read More ›

  • Dan, Dana

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    I met Dan through Jim, who I met through Chris in the basement of a frat party. Dan made friends with Jim as a regular in the sub-shop, where Jim worked, in Pittsburgh. We all wound up living together along… Read More ›

  • A short rant on the etymology of the word LEGEND, as borrowed from Eric Partridge

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    I love words. But I’m one of those people who gets upset if you say irregardless. I have no right to, other than to point out that the only difference between regardless and irregardless is that one is correct and… Read More ›

  • Hold the pose

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    I’m celebrating 6o days of blogging today. Any monkey can do it, but it takes a special kind of monkey to be so persistent. In Yoga, sometimes we hold a balancing pose for half a minute or so. It’s intended… Read More ›

  • The Empty Vessel

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    Woody Allen didn’t read his film reviews, which suggests two things: 1. He didn’t care what the critics thought, and/or 2. He didn’t want the critics to influence his work. It’s important to know who your customers are and what… Read More ›

  • Rabbit’s Foot

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    Dan was a friend of a friend, my long-haired friend who played electric bass. He didn’t just have long hair, he had Heavy Metal long hair: wild, dreading in places, unkempt. His hair drew long looks in public, in our… Read More ›

  • Breach

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    The answering machine beeped into the dark of the basement. The panel for the security system flashed, indicating a Perimeter Violation in the master bedroom, a faint, high-pitched ring, somewhere. Chumley was freaking out, his claws skittering across the tiles…. Read More ›

  • Foraging

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    I take walks from work to clear my head, get some light, take a break from the computer. Outside, the scene is the same but still, I forage. I’m looking for ideas, listening. Though the scene is about the same… Read More ›

  • Voodoo Doll

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    Kendra was so beautiful she made me uncomfortable in my house. Even though she was with her boyfriend John, her beauty (and my attraction to her) would prevent us from ever having a normal relationship. They came up from Philly… Read More ›

  • The South Side

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    Blanche told Shana she could fire a tiny laser beam from her fingertips if she pressed her palms together and focused, just right. If she were to fire a laser beam, it would be at TED, the unofficial mayor of… Read More ›