Author Archives

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

• Fireflies trapped in a jar, the days, prose

  By Bill Pearse on April 25, 2017 • ( 5 )

  Some of the days flew by so fast, others you could trap in a jar. They were on the internet or in your computer on a spinning carousel, going back as far as you could right up to the present…. Read More ›

• Bluetooth speaker inside rusted copper resonating bowl

  By Bill Pearse on April 24, 2017 • ( 17 )

  

  Lily and I moved to opposite corners of the hot tub. Because it’s outside and we live in the Pacific Northwest, the underside of the cover attracts slugs and undesirable life. I’ve started using bromine tabs indiscriminately, I just dump… Read More ›

• Do enough drugs and the trees will talk back

  By Bill Pearse on April 23, 2017 • ( 26 )

  

  I don’t know why I have to drink beer when I brown beef but I just do. Maybe so I’m doing something other than drinking. I went back to my notes from Friday morning on Cougar Mountain with the dog,… Read More ›

• Austin enters Anthony’s navel with Harper Lee

  By Bill Pearse on April 22, 2017 • ( 8 )

  

  Austin McMulin is one of those people who stopped me dead in my tracks the first time he commented on my blog, and I had to get to know him. Have a look in his voracious mind and past here,… Read More ›

• Portrait of a house cat eating a bird one Thursday

  By Bill Pearse on April 21, 2017 • ( 7 )

  

  Charlotte and I sat at the breakfast nook eating frozen pizza and watching our cat Roxy eat a bird. I watched Charlotte watching Roxy for a few bites before she realized what Roxy was eating and was glad when she… Read More ›

• Rain prose: going to work, to live

  By Bill Pearse on April 20, 2017 • ( 8 )

  

  We were between fronts again. In the morning the sound of the birds seesawing the air in their rocking chair, rhythmic arcs: those sing-song loops like fireworks for wartime, warning cries, maybe just bliss. The air was damp from last… Read More ›

• The Larry Dugan complex

  By Bill Pearse on April 19, 2017 • ( 25 )

  There were probably a dozen boys packed into that air-conditioned room at Kyle Gardo’s house in the early ’80s, the first time I saw porn, a lot of hair onscreen and squishing sounds, all of us rapt and speechless; it… Read More ›

• First date anniversary, December 5, 1999 (Langley, WA)

  By Bill Pearse on April 18, 2017 • ( 20 )

  

  I don’t remember much about the day but it was December 5, I know that much, it was Dawn’s friend Joey’s birthday and after our first date, where Dawn and I went to Whidbey Island, we went back to Joey’s… Read More ›

• “Jimi thing”: last day on Whidbey Island, spring break ’17

  By Bill Pearse on April 17, 2017 • ( 12 )

  

  The last morning I went down to the whale-watching bench to say goodbye and there were no sounds on a Saturday but the birds, a crow clicking on a totem pole, elderly folks shuffling up the sidewalks, bearded construction guys… Read More ›

• Anthony’s Navel: Ilona Elliott on Jackson Browne

  By Bill Pearse on April 15, 2017 • ( 11 )

  So glad to be featuring a Pacific Northwest writer today, Ilona Elliott, sharing stories about her coming to age with music from the ’60s and ’70s, on my Saturday guest post series Anthony’s Navel. Visit Ilona’s blog Rainy Day Writing… Read More ›