Jim the Writer

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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. …

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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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 Cross Roads

Looks good, don't he? Like he could sit up and tell a story. Ol' Terry knew a few! He wanted to write, you know. No, I never saw him with the arm, either. Yeah. In the war. The Hürtgen Forest, 1944. Same day he crossed paths with Hemingway. Sure, the author! Funny story. Terry's hugging the ground …

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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 …

Love and the Summer Night

He was a peasant, a man of the soil. Or so he claimed. She never believed him. He owned a farm house, but someone else owned the barn and fields. His hands were huge and strong, but sensitive. A potter's hands. "You're an artist," she said. "Admit it." They were in bed, katydids singing through the …

Grant’s Last Campaign

On a porch near Saratoga Springs, he gathers his forces from a rattan chair. The Great Captain, bundled in blankets against the summer air. Death is close, tasting like a damp cigar. “Grant’s Last Campaign,” the newspapers call it. He scratches away. Shiloh, The Wilderness, Cold Harbor. Has he said …

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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