Look out for my memoir! I'll be reading it to my Patreon supporters in serial for the duration of practical quarrantine. https://www.patreon.com/posts/35044305 Tartan & Other Hereditary Patterns (currently seeking agent) by Kerry E McKenna A month after Kerry's divorce, her father has a stroke and his soul passes right through her as he dies. No… Continue reading Author Reads yet unpublished Manuscript for you!
I am here. This is no small feat. I have worked to get here. I have scratched the backs. I have tricked my mind, twisted the words, made a fool of myself repeatedly. I have even felt like a slave to my own ambition. To have escaped here I have carefully lost my way again… Continue reading Here – a poem. No, the title is “Here”. But yeah, here’s a poem.
A Proper Privacy - It has always tickled me when books of a certain vintage would abbreviate names and places that the author didn’t need to disclose. I think it was a Victorian convention. Even in fiction, they’d say, “When I met M- on the street, he seemed chipper, which was out of character.” As… Continue reading Of Alphabets and Friends
The creation and the embodiment of energy, what they’ve invested in, valued, now mingling impossibly here...
Will was too busy after all to attend me in Newcastle. I museum-delved without him to see a marble statue visible though the window. Lovers entwined, ecstatic kiss. Every angle a blissful depiction. Feeling worse, I exit to the sloping street. Wander, wander, wander. Then a barrel-shaped wagon on a pedestrian triangle. Bright colors, purple red,… Continue reading Gypsy Wagon
But I can’t believe that living space doesn’t matter. I am in a mood to design yet another perfect residence.
Yet I still felt small and contracted the further east we got. Maybe the hills were closer together. Maybe I was nervous
What happens when you put a water loving plant in a desert?
Jimmy scoffed, and kept pummeling me with his story...
There was a lovely woman in Kirkwall, on my honeymoon with Scott in Orkney. I have one photo of her, and I remember her name being “Barbara.” She wore a red beret, large brown clogs and sweatpants. Typical of the acquaintances we easily made, she was from California. She had wanted to live in Orkney for… Continue reading Timeless Orkney