Often, we overlook the uncommon acts of everyday folks that define our collective humanity, like in 1952, when Albert Gunter’s quick thinking saved twenty souls from plummeting into the Thames.
…she only hoped her second wish would hold the power to save Reyland from a Final Verdict.
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
You’ll need to read this in order to access my upcoming story!
Flash Fiction: Dwight and Scooter thought they would just have a bit of fun on a lazy evening. Little did they know how far it would go once Dad got involved.
I complained at my prompt. I swore a little. But once I got over my snit, I came up with an idea and ran with it.
Fiction written from the underbelly of a writer’s deepest fears tends to be an agonizing process. And that’s exactly what I did.
For those who haven’t been following along for the last three years, NYCM has become something of an addiction for me.
I’m fairly certain my Internet searches over the weekend landed me squarely on the NSA watch list.
The truth is, back then, I’d given up on writing fiction. It wasn’t that I didn’t have ideas… it wasn’t that I lacked the time (well, any more than I do now)…
Back then, I felt storm-beaten and time-worn. At that point in my life, I was exhausted on every level. I’d completely lost touch with myself.