Jim the Writer

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Shots Fired, Garden View Apartments

As she parked near her building, Gina saw a man's form swaying in the shadows. It was the same guy. She was sure of it. The book said to call it in. Gina liked the book, but not for this. Instead, she drew her nine-millimeter. In a second, she was out of the car. Air-conditioners hummed. Crickets sang. Gina stepped forward, the automatic by her …

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 …

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 makes me …

Gerald the Underhanded

Prince Gerald had an epiphany. Half-way unto the breach, he feigned a leg cramp. Thus, brave brother Rainer surged ahead and climbed the rubble-pile first, closely followed by a hundred men-at-arms. Rainer tumbled down as fast, an arrow through the eye. The whispers began immediately. Later, the …

Ranson’s Beard

Ranson's beard was older than his daughter, the corporate attorney who'd moved to Oregon to get as far from him as North America allowed. He wasn't shaving without due consideration. He'd grown it the summer of Lillian's pregnancy. He was teaching philosophy in Ohio, and working on his book. One …

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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.She went on …

The Day After Thanksgiving, 1977

On the day after Thanksgiving in 1977, I was alone in my apartment, writing. Nobody called it “Black Friday” then. It was just the day after Thanksgiving. I don’t know when it became the high holy day of American consumerism. …

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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