This is a series of rewritten journal entries from the summer I spent in the south of France, the first entry here. Allanah and Gregory seem to me a bit bats. It’s more Allanah with her self-taught fortune telling, Gregory’s… Read More ›
metafiction
Letters and passageways (2): Shawn and Seamus
This is a series of rewritten journal entries from the summer I spent in the south of France, the first entry here. Shawn Lee is my favorite bartender at my favorite bar, The Six Arms. He is often smiling, and… Read More ›
Dead Souls | Field notes from the Pacific coast
This is a series of posts I started in late May and plan to continue for 40 days, with a goal of hitting 50,000 words by July 5 (now +25% complete!). It’s inspired by a three-day solo trek on the… Read More ›
Bluetooth speaker inside rusted copper resonating bowl
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 ›
Lost in the Funhouse with Barth: on meta, Brecht, and what’s behind The Fourth Wall
With social media and technology what they are, metafiction has become more a part of our lives than ever: we’re constantly stepping outside the frame to capture ourselves in it, and our story of documenting our life story is as much a story as the story itself. But as we step outside the frame, we’re straddling two worlds and cease to exist fully in either — like tourists on an Alaskan whale-watching cruise with our cameras out trying to catch the breaching whales as proof we were there, we miss the reality just beyond our lens and I wonder, did we really see anything at all?
We are all just prisoners here of our own device
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 ›
Why the people don’t come out
If I keep my eyes closed long enough the people come out. It’s an old village in the mountains, medieval times. A woman with gray hair pulled back and a robe peeks out the window. Broken-down peasant men with dirty… Read More ›
Cave
I bought a collection by Rilke at Darvill’s bookstore on Orcas Island, hoping it would free me from a year without writing. The store is small, warm, and jam-packed with books. A chime goes off when the door opens, and… Read More ›
The Chair of Forgetfulness
It is a small world on the Internet. The Web expands and contracts, and as it moves, we are all connected to it. Dawn calls it The Chair of Forgetfulness because when she sits down to look into it, time… Read More ›
Lost in the Funhouse
We took the kids to the Hofmeister in Bietigheim, for the drop-off play area. You sign the kids in, they give you a pager, and then you just leave them there while you shop. I was trying to remember the… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 