I can hear the crickets through my open window. The crickets, and the cars driving up and down Quincy Avenue. Downstairs, Brooke is watching a movie. I can hear the sharp edges of voices from time to time. Tonight, I feel tired after another early morning; I feel ready for Labor Day weekend but not … Continue reading
As a writer seeking to publish his first novel, I’m overcome by feelings of despair and apathy on a fairly regular basis. Probably weekly, though Brooke might disagree. But, about once a week I reach a low point. I tell myself again and again that my writing is crap, that I’ll never be able to … Continue reading
