Jim the Writer - a literary blog

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Until you walk it

Jerry limped to the top of the hill, then stopped. The two-lane blacktop wound down the hill and disappeared into the trees. Beyond the trees, out of sight, lay the river. Jerry had driven this road many times, hundreds of times, but never walked it. You don't know a road until you walk it, he thought. He looked back. A gauzy haze hung on the …

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If the gods be merciful

The good people of Kal were fixing to burn another witch. The event would close the Festival of the Tyrant’s Demise. “Third one this week,” Proffer said as we watched the wood-stack grow. “They must like the smell. The evil--” “Judge not, lest you be judged,” I said hastily. And in a lower voice: …

Details

The professor wore the required shirt and shoes. He expected service. Yes, his pants were missing. So were his underpants, his socks and his wife of 38 years, if anyone cared for details. The girl behind the counter gaped at him, her mouth a perfect O. The professor set down a bottle. "It's all in …

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The Tiny Shop of Hope

She was a writer, working on a book about antique furniture restoration. Her research was a collection of disparate facts. No theme, no center. Would it ever come together? Would anyone care if it did not? Aside from her publisher, of course, whose deadlines were scratched in granite. …

What Else You Can’t Do

He had no music in him, never had. In fourth grade, before the Christmas pageant, a desperate teacher ordered him to lip-sync "The Little Drummer Boy." Decades later, a grown man, it still made him sad. "You can't dance," a woman told him over the booming bass at a grad school party. "It …

Timing is Everything

Fellowes, carrying orders for the 3rd Division, stood in the sandy track, clutching the dispatch case against his side like a talisman. Across the field, smoke rose from a distant blue tree-line. Small groups of men moved about the field. Fellowes started toward one group. All around him, dark …

Lights

A young lieutenant sat with his back against a stone wall and his shirt front soaked through with blood. He was bare-headed, and looked about fifteen. He stared up at Gunther. "Lights," he whispered. Something like that. …

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About me

As you have probably figured out, my name is Jim and I am a writer. For many years, I was a college writing teacher, too -- among many other life roles. I have another, more popular blog called Life After Carbs. It's about losing weight on a reduced carbohydrate diet. And it's about me -- my favorite …

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El Morro

The Desire to Leave a Mark ... El Morro (the headland) stands in western New Mexico, and is also known as Inscription Rock. At the base of El Morro is a pool of water that for centuries attracted parched travelers to the spot, many of whom carved dates, names, and messages (including petroglyphs) into the …

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