Dear Yuletude Writer ( Read more... )

And then he remembers looking at Bruce through a small oval airplane window frame. The cuff of his white sleeve luminous against his pale cheek, his face resting on his upturned palm. He is facing away, Clark can't see his eyes only dark eyelashes and the winged upturn of an eyebrow. The jet was getting ready for take off and the engines were ( Read more... )

Often when I am possessed by an idea, it rarely, if ever makes it to paper. I toy with it in my head, explore every crevice, make myself wholly comfortable in the flavour until I've savoured it completely and utterly. It rarely makes it to paper, if ever. For me that's what writing is about, you conceive and idea and sometimes just thinking it over ( Read more... )

So we're reading one of Katherine Mansfield's stories from her collection and initially I don't seem to like it very much. But then there's these two characters, a husband and a wife and well, their love is so realistically portrayed and it was so touching. He is so sweet and cares for his wife so much and she knows how much he cares, he beats ( Read more... )

He allows himself a minute - a bouquet of 60 little flowers which will shrivel and die in a startlingly quick fashion, a gift to himself with the ostentation bow of Brucie accompanied with a fanged flash of teeth which is all Batman - just this once in a while, here and there to stay behind. To stay and see the dust settling down, the fine cracks ( Read more... )