- The mind of a writer can be a truly terrifying thing: isolated, neurotic, caffeine-addled, crippled by procrastination and consumed by feelings of panic, self-loathing and soul-crushing inadequacy. And that’s on a good day. (Robert De Niro)
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Tag Archives: Short Story
Rifat Had A Dream
“Papa. I’m scared.” Sami whispered. “Ssshhh,” his Papa whispered back. “There is no reason to be scared. We will be going soon. Where we will be safe.” They whispered in the dark. In the cold. Their breath creating misty clouds. … Continue reading
Aunt Millie
When I first started blogging, I found a large community of writers and poets. Some of them undertook efforts to post writing prompts and other ideas for writing stories. Somewhere along the line those prompt efforts seemed to have dried … Continue reading
The President’s Men
Months ago, I had a dream. The only part of the dream I remembered was this — my sister calling me and telling me she was taking the jump. That brief memory of a dream turned into The Jump. I … Continue reading
The Smokers Club
While I struggle with writing new stuff, I’m working on submitting existing stories. One of my current projects is to put together a collection of short stories for consideration by Willow Springs Books, which is running a contest for the … Continue reading
Posted in Fiction, Mark Paxson
Tagged Fiction, Mark Paxson, Short Story, The Smokers Club
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Who Is Maureen Nesbitt?
Another oldie, written back when I was writing a lot. I post this while I ponder and make slow progress towards another piece of The Jump. Who Is Maureen Nesbitt? Who is Maureen Nesbitt? A thought passed through my … Continue reading
The Watcher
Another oldie (and I’m working on something new I hope to post soon)… The Watcher Working for God is never easy. That’s what I told the shrink when he sat down in his leather chair and asked, “Why are … Continue reading
February 29 — Page Three
Page One. Page Two. Johnny, I assume, went back to his base, maybe served a little bit of time in Marine prison, or whatever it was he might have to do for his AWOL. I slipped back out into space … Continue reading
Every Four Years — Page Two
Page One Footloose. It was the movie that winter. Everybody was seeing it, but we never made it and I have never been able to watch that movie. I was looking back at Ginny, saying something to her about our … Continue reading
Every Four Years
It was something we started in high school, Johnny Mac and me. Only when we started we didn’t actually know we were starting a tradition that would last for years to come. We’d been friends since the 4th grade. He … Continue reading
Memories
A river road. Two lanes – one in each direction – twisting and turning along a levee. Tracing the edge of a river that empties into the sea. A place where memories may fall like rain drops and flow with … Continue reading
Novels, Short Stories, and More 