Too Early in the Morning for an Epiphany

Since that spill, I’ve borne a grudge against the sinister presence that created “right” ways. That enforced its rules whimsically, letting me do it my way much of the time. Tricking me other times. Sometimes even punishing me with a broken glass or painful scrape.

Smoke on a Subway Platform

“There’s been an attack at the 36th street stop.”
     “Where Max waits for Andoni.”

A Sip of Chirp: Leaning on Audio

by wlancehunt in Books, fantasy, Personal Narrative

26 books in 10 months. Not shabby.

Only the Dead Have Nothing Left to Learn

That stuff, well, once you stop learning about those things, you’re dead—even if your body is still walking about, going through the motions of life. That’s existing, simply not being buried yet. 

20 Years On

Scars makes sense for the body—stop bleeding, prevent an infection, protect the break—quickly—to keep us alive and then repair the harm as fast as possible. Gotta keep going after all. But, some scars heal up better than others.

If It Were a Snake, It Would Have Bit You.

Daemons were not part of Philip Pullman’s original idea for the Golden Compass. And understanding this may have saved the novel I’m working on.

The New Normal is Pretty Much Like the Old, with Scratches

Scary as hell living in Brooklyn, the deadliest place on earth for Covid-19. For a few grim weeks.

Out of the blue
When the world turns upside down in an instant, where do you go from there?

by wlancehunt in Personal Narrative, psychology

The armed troops and the ID cards are gone now, but low-flying planes are still unnerving.

A Year After “the Event”

Resilience after 9-11—it’s about what happens in the mind as much as on the ground.

When Temporal Lobe Seizures meet a Twenty-year Old Novel Idea inspired by a Song

I felt as if my consciousness had suddenly reappeared back in my own body. In the exact moment from which it had been plucked days, or perhaps years before. In between? I had no idea.

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