Month: August 2012
Waiting for the women (Draft Page)
Close your eyes. Snap! And By fat boys, I mean the townies, the posers, the lame ducks of my sad and pathetic generation, the dollar bill dreamers. Start with laughter, I'm only a writer. And wasnt that romantic, what a picture that was, I was leaving and taking shots of whiskey and shots of the digital variety of the time… Continue reading Waiting for the women (Draft Page)
What is the Universe? Are You (a) Writer? I Don’t know…
My family is old. I am old. This is something I wrote, suffering. No longer, Now, Suffering. Spontaneous prose as is… Body hurts and girl in bed, dog in bed…I sit here to type some words on new typewriter, only destiny, only my life, and how does a man become honest with himself? These are… Continue reading What is the Universe? Are You (a) Writer? I Don’t know…
The Earth Moves You (draft page)
Now, being the writer-man as the night pulses and friends light off fireworks into the last great summer day that you can remember. “And Henry, you tubed today” she said , and yeah I did tube, I’m a tuber. Now you’re you, a writer tuba diver drinker writer man, and you know why, because you… Continue reading The Earth Moves You (draft page)
Just a Note, Just A Plan, an update of sorts
Writing a novel isn't easy, a great one, almost insanity, and you have to be sharp and not scatter brained, maybe my youth or personality is playing against me, but you have to be disciplined, and I was, I'm not right now. That being said, I have a ton of good work on here, and my mind is so messed… Continue reading Just a Note, Just A Plan, an update of sorts
Adventures In American Writing 