Work in Progress

I Love Paris

Lately, I’ve been rummaging around my collection of writing ideas and unfinished work. Sometimes, it’s very clear why I never completed a particular piece, why I abandoned those words in favor of others. But, sometimes, I come across things I don’t even remember writing, things that seem like they should have gone somewhere other than cold storage. Like this one.

I Love Paris

Lately, I’ve been rummaging around my collection of writing ideas and unfinished work. Sometimes, it’s very clear why I never completed a particular piece, why I abandoned those words in favor of others. But, sometimes, I come across things I don’t even remember writing, things that seem like they should have gone somewhere other than cold storage. Like this one.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

“It’s sad isn’t it? I mean, you made a mistake and you’re sorry so it feels like it shouldn’t be over but, oddly, it is.” Paul said this looking off someplace over my head. He sounded detached, more like a scientist explaining the pesky nature of his experiment rather than a man breaking up with the girlfriend who desperately didn’t

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

“It’s sad isn’t it? I mean, you made a mistake and you’re sorry so it feels like it shouldn’t be over but, oddly, it is.” Paul said this looking off someplace over my head. He sounded detached, more like a scientist explaining the pesky nature of his experiment rather than a man breaking up with the girlfriend who desperately didn’t

Maybe I Suck

You’ve heard about successful writers who wrote only on napkins, or tiny notebooks, every chance they had, while working fourteen hours a day, raising ten kids and volunteering at their local homeless shelter. The point of their stories is to make other writers feel like shit when they don’t write. Today, I found myself with a slice of time to