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The Short Story Reading Challenge
This group blog features reviews of short stories and story collections, plus essays on the form
The Literary Handyman
Fantasy novelist Danielle Ackley-McPhail’s blog shares practical advice about structuring a story, marketing your work, and polishing your prose
The Character Therapist
Having trouble with your fictional characters’ motivations?
Self Editing Blog
Brief articles by professional editor John Robert Marlow offer advice on spotting and fixing common problems with your novel, screenplay or nonfiction book
Origami Poems Project
The Origami Poems Project features instructions for creating your own mini-collection of poetry that can fit on a single sheet of paper, to be folded origami-style into book form
Novel Writing Advice from Caro Clarke
Fiction writer Clarke offers helpful tips on plotting, pacing, revising, and other nuts-and-bolts aspects of creating a novel, in a series of 30 articles originally written for the online magazine NovelAdvice
National Novel Writing Month
Jump-start that book you’ve been meaning to write, with this fun project that dares participants to write a 50,000-word novel between November 1 and November 30 each year
Maralys Wills
Writing instructor, speaker, and memoirist Maralys Wills is the author of 12 books, including the writers’ manual ‘Damn the Rejections, Full Speed Ahead’
ECRITUREartefacts
Looking for a stylish, quirky gift for a literary friend?
Critique Speak
This website aims to teach writers and readers how to give and receive constructive feedback, using short animated videos
Colrain Poetry Manuscript Conference
Unique conference designed to set poets with a manuscript-in-process on a path towards publication
BookLender
Like Netflix for books, BookLender allows customers to rent up to 15 books at a time, with no late fees, due dates, or shipping costs
May You Live in Interesting Times
Picture young lovers nineteen or thereabouts he, third son, Druze, hewed from Golan oak descendant of honorable generations— proud mustachioed builders, soil tillers— sent to Damascus to study medicine in his knapsack a book of poems by Khalil Gibran— she, younger child of holocaust survivors somehow still a dreamer playing…
Rondeaux de Chambre: Barbara’s Room
I In Barbara's room the bride doll leans askew, its legs thrust out. It seems to raise one arm, if less to bless or gesture in wide-eyed protest, than stay the afternoon's esteem, discovered in snagged lace and cream sateen in sunlight—what she means, both in her presence and her…
Facing Alzheimer’s and… the Dying of the Light
I've felt Dylan Thomas' cry: Do not go gentle ...Rage, rage against the dying of the light as I face progressively advancing Alzheimer's, aware any reversal or halt just isn't possible. But raging deeply frightens those I love, thus I must go gentle into my looming night. Yes, this old…
Writer’s Retreat
”...observe the things that were and watch them pass, not rushing them along nor holding them too tightly.” —Harvey Stanbrough, “Great Expectations” He speaks of writing the world Of sensing the wholeness first while we sit on hay bales Pens in hand Near the edge of an Arizona night our…
From Darkness, Deeper Than the Wells of Time
On that dark thread of sadness, which is time. (Vernon Scannell) I Before the night's cold anchor drags us down, a blood-red sun delivers up the day; as shadows seep from coves where bare rocks drown so, life revives and wallows. In the bay, who knows if dawn brings bounty,…
Triolet for Fishermen
Grey fishermen with silent nets trawl, deep beneath an autumn moon and from the shore are silhouettes. Grey fishermen with silent nets cast long and haul while darkness whets the needle-points, which fade too soon. Grey fishermen with silent nets trawl deep, beneath an autumn moon. The swollen heartbeat of…
My Nights of Moon
O moon, o magical globe of cratered light, Beloved of Pyramus and Thisbe moon, shines On kings and queens and rude mechanicals With benign and regal light alike. I sit alone Under whispering trees in the whitened night And think of all my nights of moon, of goddess And gypsy,…
In Bangalore
In Bangalore the warm rain falls; the calls of crows are stilled; the ceiling fan had chilled the room like a glacier. The native bearer comes, a sure devil, handsome and dark in his Dravidian skin, wringing his impeccable smile, bringing in his fertile hands the inevitable coffee, the ripe…
Haiku Selections
1 With green lace dresses, Easter updates the image Of dowager trees. 2 A purple iris Pokes its nose through the wire fence, Yearning to breathe free. 3 A rich red rosebush Blooms indiscriminately By a poor man's shack. 4 A caterpillar Hangs in close to give the leaf A…
Day Sailing
Mother is losing her bearing and I am varnishing The rudder of my little boat with the slow stroke Of one bemused that sadness is not storm, unsure What part of loss to grieve. No hope of patching up Her memory, nor of walking which she loved. We know The…
Reflections of Solitude
I lie awake, listening to the voice of your steady breathing, finding comfort in such a simple occurrence. Slowly, so as not to disturb you, I untangle myself from the covers and quietly slip out of bed. Coffee. I anticipate the rich, wondrous aroma as I begin to brew a…
The Garden Spider
The common garden spider (Araneus diadematus) constructs its web just before sunrise…The web is started with a horizontal thread stretched between two supports. The spider lets out a thread that is carried to another support by a breeze or air current. -Newsletter of the Seattle Rose Society i. The first…
The Falcon
Slowly descending in a narrowing gyre, a large grey-brown falcon appears under low clouds in the late afternoon. Hungry, thirsty, tired from a long flight, his cautious calculated circles conceal a quiet urgency. Stretched tendons and burning muscles are barely able to hold the wings outright and taut. A small…
Sestina: All the Broken Toys
You line them up, all those toys since baby years through childhood. The ragdoll your mother sewed when you were eight. Your father bought that leather cap (now torn), another gift so hard to liberate. A friend once said, “Just hide them in a chest.” But hiding them means feeling…
The Old Man from Malkala
I The old man died one October, in the humid build up time before the wet. We went along to say goodbye, me, JD, Zoe, Fitah and the Mine Manager of the day. We kept our work rig on to be respectful. He worked with us for a long time.…
The Sleeper
Susan, How do you do? The nurse called me about you just now. She said that you had trouble getting to sleep. I'm the resident on call. Oh, I'm from Texas. Maybe you can tell. Even without my Stetson. Your parents live near Council Bluffs. You go to the University…
Time-Lapse Father - The Migrant Worker
Waiting at the border one hot pre-Christmas day, Idly staring past lines of weary miners Standing mute and patient on their way home; Beasts of burden, loaded high with bulky parcels, Ancient bags, tattered passports, baggy clothes, When my eye caught on a tricycle, a bright blue Shiny tricycle, clutched…
Different Businesses, Same Location
In the early Fifties, it was a diner; Pretty good but lacked variety In the late Fifties, a bookstore Promoting the John Birch Society. Then a mom & pop bakery where Kids lined up for their cookies Followed by a barbershop that had A pay phone reserved for bookies. Western…
The Last Straw
I. Ahh, she thought. The last straw in the box. And she smiled. She held it up to the light: pale, opaque, paper. She placed one tip to her lips, the other end to the edge of the pooled juice that had only recently spilled from the ruined orange rind,…
Preferences
I'd rather read a nonsense verse than a poet laureate's lines. I'd rather drive my mother's hearse ignoring speeding signs, and rattle through the countryside disturbing nesting geese, than barter for a buxom bride while traveling in Greece. I'd rather paint an old red barn than draw a floating duck.…
Old Men, Smoking
You can see them standing singly or in clusters on street corners Or sitting, calm as toads, in quaint but seedy coffee bars, These old men who smoke and don't speak English. They stare into the distance, seeing the drowning Of the Titanic, the Lusitania, some obscure Estonian ferry, Experiencing…
Fear’s Profiteer
Strapped to the powerful swift steed of fear From warm sunlight to dark clouds we veer; Finding myself in a realm ineffably queer. Here forever or is it just one long daunting year? Timeóa ludicrous creation to all who enter here. Encapsulated in a suffocating vanishing sphere The size of…
Haiku Series
sky fell into lake drawn down by fog, sky fell into lake while I slept eight geese float off shore water has a voice, fingers, beating heart, a tone light drifts down like leaves sun blooms like a rose in liquid turquoise garden listen hard, it sings tall tufted beach…
Coal Dust Street
And he saw it now and then the lamp lit row of houses that stretched beyond the eye houses where men who dug black slept and drank when they could ageless cobbles pried on men who fought in the street over want, women and work while little men sons played…
Las Meninas
Las Meninas was painted by Spanish artist Velazquez in 1656. The painting depicts a princess and her retinue in the court of King Philip IV. Three hundred years later in 1957 Pablo Picasso embarked on a project to paint his own version of Las Meninas. One large full scale black…
Schubert’s Sweet Symphony of a Woman
Sweet harmony mingles in the air. Cherubs dance like fluttering butterflies. Heaven's harps weave musical serenity. Uttered prayers float above the stars. Bring a baby with downy softness, Earthly form and purity of soul. Rejoicing tickles life's smiling fancy. The prayers reach the dwelling of angels. Surely it is a…
English 379 Revisited
Not openly, as others loved, loved we, Lovers by night who dissembled by day, Were eager to debate a simile Or parse a metaphor, but balked to say A word in harmless badinage; nor dared To tease or touch, or even be alone, Till candled night enclosed usóbodies bared, Our…
To Botticelli
You give us newborn Venus, fair and innocent—her hands and hair arranged to hide her nakedness— an unexpected seemliness. Her flesh is pale, sweet, luminous— spun-sugar delicate, a gloss of candy rather than ripe fruit— weak nourishment for love's pursuit. The scalloped birth-shell floats on curls of froth. How could…
Watercolor Lighthouse
She sits by the fire easel set so she can easily look out the window to the tapestry of beauty which she is painting. Watercolors, expertly blended, the details of the painting become soft, a less defined portrait of the magnificent scene outside of her home by the sea. She…
Frank Salvidio
In addition to poems which have appeared in journals and anthologies, Frank Salvidio is the author of several books: Between Troy & Florence (original poems and translations), Sappho Says (translations of the poetry of Sappho of Lesbos), and translations of Dante's Vita Nuova and, most recently, the Inferno.
To This Coy Universe
[Many physicists predict that a rapidly accelerating universe such as ours means that the cosmos as we know it, and thus the future itself, will end.] O Universe! on which I used to depend, how is it that you, too, will end? The latest astro-notion, however right, claims that infinity…
Lollipop Lullaby
Whisk me away to the south of days where three cornered hats perform gypsy plays where wagon wheels bustle down autumn leaved ways whisk me away to the south of days Bounce me over the tumbleweed flats where chestnuts are marbles and donkeys wear hats where poodles do headstands and…
Winterscape
Showered by snowfalls as the branches break, The forest path grows dim in evening dusk. And owls reply, deep in the gloom awake, Like ghostly mourners for earth's icy husk. White over black, the snow-robed sentinels Cover the rushing stream, black waters roll, Resound through dream worlds, woods and fells,…
Rollin Lasseter
Rollin A. Lasseter retired in 2003 from the English faculty of the University of Dallas. He graduated Summa Cum Laude from Vanderbilt University, and attended Yale University as a Woodrow Wilson Fellow, where he received his M.A. and Ph.D. His dissertation was on W.B. Yeats. He was Director of the…
A Crown of Sonnets on the Euphronios Krater
The Museum Visitors The people hurry in and out of rooms of the museum that hold the ancient arts from Greek and Roman palaces and tombs, some whole and perfect. Most are now just shards. Their gift shop bags show what their first stop was: to buy post cards of…
Old Stones
Your father stoops to pick up a stone Gently, he lays it, a nice fit, in a small crevasse in an old wall. The larger stones were cleared by your father, your father's father, and before himóhis father to make a space for meager crops, keep the scrawny cattle in…
Madame Sosostris
With daily preparations made, she slumps into her chair, a fraying turban hiding graying threads of thinning hair. The hem is slightly tattered of her dress of velveteen. A peeking pair of slippers there have lost their silver sheen Around her slender shoulders drapes a shawl with golden thread. Stars…
Charles Plays the Ukulele
Charlie plays the ukulele in a small Manhattan bar at a crowded intersection near the pier, where the people buy their tickets for the Staten Island Ferry, and linger for a drink or two, or maybe just a beer. He knows he makes them happy, for they sometimes enter sadly,…
