Water

I have an 11 year old sister who asked me to go with her and her friend to a pond near our house to swim. Although I was tired, I agreed. The weather was getting a little chilly, so instead of swimming with them, I sat on the bench on the shore. The little beach, though public property, is unnamed and secluded; only people who live in our neighborhood even know of it's existence. Bored, I watched a frog that jumped around in the water, and was suddenly inspired to write. I had no paper, of course, since I hadn't planned on writing, but we were alone, so I pulled out my cell phone and turned on the voice recorder. I spent the next hour telling the next scenes in my book to my phone, and watching my sister, bunches of fishies, a few frogs, and a turtle. Water does this for me. I do my best...

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The Right to Write

Okay, you caught me. This is just a rant. A rant about writing, but still just a rant. Several years ago I wrote a story, a piece of flash fiction, which I now call The Human Cycle. Only one person besides myself has read it. I posted it online for two hours one night, but I took it down soon after, before it got any hits. If you ask me, it's the best thing I've ever written. I have never been prouder of anything. I love that story. It's only 926 words, but it took my 8 months to write. So who is that one person who saw it? And why wouldn't I show anyone else? The person who read it was a friend of mine. She had watched me labor over it for months, but hadn't read it. When I finally finished it, I printed out a copy and handed it over. She read it, looked me in the eye and said "Have...

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