Jim the Writer

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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 and he looks up. There's Hemingway standing by the road, …

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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 …

How Nan Got Her Maple Trimmed

Nan wanted a bough or two cut off the big silver maple in our backyard. So I hired a crew. Then she was hot to put in her garden and didn't like having to wait. "It's too early to plant, anyway," I said. When the crew got here, she was hot for the climber. "You should see the hunk trimming my …

The rising cost of love

Two years ago, he'd given her a St. Bernard with a cask of peppermint schnapps clipped to its collar. She’d given him a white pickup the size of house. Last year, he’d bought vehicles for both of them. She grabbed the giant black truck, leaving him the little red SUV. This Christmas, he …

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 …

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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Homecoming

Lord Galt’s return to the Castle of the Mountain Kingdom was sudden and unexpected. It had to be so. The King had been vocal in his criticism of his uncle. His words stopped short of condemnation, and yet were poison in the minds of his loyal subjects. He may as well have pronounced the Syllables of …

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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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