Happy New Year, friend. Once again, I am sitting at my little writing desk on New Year's Day, bristling with the fear that 2022 will be yet another year when I fail to do what I say I'll do. Sitting at my little desk, thinking about all my old promises.... i am running into a… Continue reading My DIY MFA: Running Into the New Year
I have a new story in The Stinging Fly. It's about apples and woodturners, sort of. I haven't done too much woodworking lately, not since last Spring when I finished my blanket chest. Our place is so small, there's only so much room for another box, bowl, or coffee table. But some things from the past… Continue reading Enough For Keeping
Finland 2007 moleskin journal, and the first scrawlings of a story that would eventually be my first published story in 2014. Found in a box, hardly decipherable in parts, and quite unlike what it became, as far as I can read. Pages smell strongly like linseed oil. That's all. (But, also, I feel old tonight… Continue reading Quite unlike what it became
Last night I dreamed I was skating on glass. Nobody wants for mold to appear unbidden, and flourish, in the airspace between their double-paned windows; but, if it must, they can only hope for the crystal kind whose fine filaments creep into your nighttime with whisperings of snow. From the Old Norse vindr auga came the word window: ‘wind… Continue reading The Uninvited
1. My first short story, 'Lay Down The Dark Layers', has been published by the Irish literary magazine, The Stinging Fly (hurrah!) 2. This anthology---Winged: New Writing on Bees---is essential and beautiful and its existence in the world makes me happy (about some humans and all bees).
Sky Burial by Ron Koertge Q. You're Such a Disciplined Writer. Were You Always That way? A. When I was in graduate school, I worked part-time at a local library. I ran the used bookstore in the basement. The money came in handy. There was plenty of time to study. I learned to know the… Continue reading As the hand I could have written with flew away from the wrist…
A short essay I wrote is up on Orion Magazine's website. "My husband wants land. He digs through websites, hoping to uncover a patch we could afford. I want it too but it hurts to see him look at places someone else will live on, or subdivide. It’s not our time, yet. We plant pennies… Continue reading For now, Portland Oregon