Poems By An Eight Year Old Me

So my mother was going through the massive amount of things she has hidden and tucked away in her basement and she found some old papers of mine from my school days as a second grader. She must have been a meticulous mother back then or just very bored sitting at home with children because she dropped a few binders worth of my grade school career on the kitchen table when I was over yesterday.

About 98% of the stuff was mundane, everyday school work like spelling tests and math quizzes but there were a few hidden gems deep within the endless supply of graded 100% papers (I had a fetish for being perfect when I was little). Continue reading


Outside Riff-ter

Since the writing contest I wrote this for is now over, I can safely publish this on my blog. The prompt was: Submit a story about two people who have become the way they are because of their close relationship with each other: either as best friends or worst enemies – or both. Write it in 500 words or less without using either the words “friend” or “enemy.”

Outside Riff-ter

For the fifty-eighth time today, I scan over the list of solo acoustic guitar performers competing this year and I can come to no other conclusion but this: first place is going to come down to Caleb and me again. Continue reading

How Did You Know You Wanted to be a Writer?

Sorry to pass over the almighty “destiny” speech but the truth is, I didn’t really know that I wanted to be a writer until I was 26.

However, reading and writing has always been an important part of my life. I was reading books by myself by age 3. I will never forget the story my mom has always told me about how, as a wee little one, I would have my grandmother read books to me and I would let her know whenever she missed ONE word from paraphrasing. Needless to say, she soon refused to read to me and, instead, insisted I do the narrating. Soon after, I started my own stories. Continue reading