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Adventures In American Writing

Words depicting Adventures of the Human Brain

  • Audio Readings 
  • Books For Sale by A.H.K.
  • Digital Blinks
  • West Vine Press
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  • The Past, The Future, The Now, of Andrew H. Kuharevicz

Tag: literature

Thoughts Had While Living In A Tent

August 20, 2016 Andrew H. K.Leave a comment

(Taken from the Book, By Andrew K. called, Summer of Chaos. Go HERE TO BUY. Copyright of WEST VINE PRESS USA.May not be shared or linked to any webpage without permission. Leave a message in the comment section of you wish to do so. Thank you for reading) 

THE THEORY OF “ROUGHIN’ IT”

August 18, 2016 Andrew H. K.Leave a comment

"Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn't." Mark Twain (Taken from the Book, By Andrew K. called, Summer of Chaos. Go HERE TO BUY. Copyright of WEST VINE PRESS USA.May not be shared or linked to any webpage without permission. Leave a message in… Continue reading THE THEORY OF “ROUGHIN’ IT” →

Possible Future Projects (#1)

August 11, 2016August 12, 2016 Andrew H. K.Leave a comment

A.H.K Note One: This book was once published. It is a work of fiction. I was unhappy with it, and I've written many books I'm unhappy with, because I was too young at the time. They are out of print but I have some plans getting back to them, rewriting them, editing, and re releasing… Continue reading Possible Future Projects (#1) →

Hand Gun Fires At The Beginning Of Winter’s End

March 2, 2015March 2, 2015 Andrew H. K.Leave a comment

(I suppose this could be labeled as an old school writer's notebook entry) After cleaning my place and washing dishes, made some coffee and took a shower. I’d say that it was about half an hour of mental prep work in order to calm down and get to the place where I could comfortably edit.… Continue reading Hand Gun Fires At The Beginning Of Winter’s End →

Old Writing #11, ‘Hey I just wanted to ride a T-Rex”

September 6, 2014 Andrew H. K.Leave a comment

September 8, 2012 · by A.H.K Beaten eyes, and I don’t have a single memory of happiness. My shoes are holy. I don’t care. Not really. Bending these fingers, to type these words, and for what? To feel Everything. To feel alive. Running back to the woods. A dog running from trucks. Rain splash and gun shots… Continue reading Old Writing #11, ‘Hey I just wanted to ride a T-Rex” →

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