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Nightrider's Lament

"Why do they [write] for their money? Why do they [work] for short pay? They ain't getting nowhere and they're losing their share. They must have gone crazy back there." — Michael Burton (paraphrased)

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High Above the World Where No One Cares

On March 3, 2016 By wastedpilgrimIn FictionLeave a comment

  Marvin staggered out of bed, stopped off for a leak, and advanced boldly into the kitchen in search of a swallow of water to combat the cotton mouth. Gaining coherence and mental acuity, he applied the fundamentals of coffee making to his machine and retreated because nature was beginning to call, and, sometimes, in …

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Moping About the Madness

On March 1, 2016 By wastedpilgrimIn LifeLeave a comment

This morning I'm feeling paralyzed. I need to write about cowboys in 1946, and my mind is stuck in the present. I've tried sticking planks under the tires. I've jammed the gears. Nothing. So I decided to ruminate here. I'm thinking. I'm thinking. Here's the transition I've been making, and it may be unduly influenced …

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Be Clever … But Not Too Clever

On February 25, 2016 By wastedpilgrimIn WritingLeave a comment

My father was a wonderful storyteller. I was probably an adult before I ever questioned their truthfulness. It seemed like my dad was either alone, or with a long-forgotten pal, when the miraculous events in question occurred. They were almost funny. Among my friends, they became my famous, as did my dad. One of my …

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The Inestimable Benefit of Sport

On February 22, 2016 By wastedpilgrimIn FictionLeave a comment

"Remember that time we almost lost to Hugheyville?" "Yeah," Dan Dimmelmeier replied. "Us playing against a school so small that they barely had enough boys in the student body to field a team." "Went into the seventh inning trailing by a run," his best friend, Brandin Porcher, recalled. "Then we tied it on a single …

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Time and Place

On February 17, 2016 By wastedpilgrimIn WritingLeave a comment

I got up early. I used to get up early all the time, probably six-thirty on the average, but it's unusual for me to have to be up early, and I usually stay up late, reading and watching late-night talk shows, and I go to bed when I'm good and ready, and wake up when …

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Coming Home Took a While for the Author, Too

On February 16, 2016 By wastedpilgrimIn WritingLeave a comment

Today was fun. I didn't go anywhere but L&L Office Supply for a couple reams of paper. Okay, I stopped by the Old Mill for an early supper, before the crowds hit. The crowds had already hit Dempsey's. It's tough to beat that crowd on a Monday. The writing was fun. I had the docket …

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Speeding, and Fiction, and … Speeding Through Fiction

On February 11, 2016 By wastedpilgrimIn WritingLeave a comment

I can't drive 55. I can drive 62. They never stop you when you're 10 miles an our or less over the speed limit. About four months ago, I got my first speeding ticket in at least five years. I got it in the worst state possible to be stopped for speeding, North Carolina, which …

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Tuesday Morning Consciousness Stream

On February 9, 2016 By wastedpilgrimIn LifeLeave a comment

  I've had much to think of, and yet I've learned gradually that I'm living in a world that seldom thinks. It tweets. It texts. It posts. It links. It sinks. But it seldom thinks. It's turnt af. Nowumsayin? Saturday was unexpected. I was pecking away at something at least as nonsensical as this when …

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The Big Mistake

On February 3, 2016February 3, 2016 By wastedpilgrimIn Fiction, UncategorizedLeave a comment

Beuerlein was an upscale town of about three thousand, perched on the New Jersey Shore. Unlike many such towns, Beuerlein's residents mostly lived there year around, and most who didn't were writers, artists, and craftsmen, and craftswomen, of other ilks. Lots of intelligent, good-natured people lived there, and most didn't get too out of shape …

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What a Tangled Web I’ve Weaved

On February 1, 2016February 1, 2016 By wastedpilgrimIn Books, WritingLeave a comment

I'm sort of a mass of contradictions this morning. I want to get myself in the mood to work on fiction, but, so far, this has been one of those mornings in which I can't come up with a topic, and so I bide some time by reading my timeline, and checking the weather, and …

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