The art of writing
The aged librarian still keeps the ancient typewriter he bought from his uncle when he had ambitions of becoming an author. “I must study the masters”, he said. But the […]
The aged librarian still keeps the ancient typewriter he bought from his uncle when he had ambitions of becoming an author. “I must study the masters”, he said. But the […]
Sometimes, when gibbously pregnant the moon descends behind a cloak of clouds to spend an argent night inside his library. She tiptoes in her silken slippers, teases him with flashes […]
At first, you see him aged and grey his beard unkempt, his tie is stained with tea, but still, he asks politely “How may I help you, dear” he is […]
A Man of fortitude shall forge Himself, and know how iron can be tied to muscle-manacles, be gasoline and guns be best to boast but loath how flowers can be […]
Caged in his solitude, moonless and lost the ancient librarian shuffles through dust of seemingly identical chambers for a single truthful apparition in the pulp-fiction-platitudes left in the wake of […]
Writing about living in two places (and times)
Poems & Stories from The Author Stew
practising for a whole life
haikai poetry matters
Running in the slow lane
The view from here ... Or here!
“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein
chronicling my quarter life crisis
Now we see through a glass, darkly