Red Room Where the Writers Are

I remember bits and pieces of my early years. I wish I could remember more.

Today I was inspired by an example of the spreading of creative energy and activity that I witnessed on Hayes Street in front of the local convenience store.

Yesterday, I had lunch with a friend I've known since second grade.  We see each other a few times a year, some years more than others.  But this is a good year, a connected year, and we've been

As I read with wonder the pretty damned good fantasy story that's shaping up to be my 11-year-old daughter's first attempt at the novelistic form, I realize — while mustering as much objectivity

When I was little things were different for kids.  Oh, yeah, you've heard this before.  It's what your grandfather always told you about walking to school in the snow for ten miles.  Right, yeah