Writing Workshop in April

I was selected to participate in the writing workshop with 2011 writer in residence Nancy Rawles on Tuesday, April 26 and Thursday, April 28, 2011 at Peninsula College, Port Angeles.  Nancy Rawles is an African American playwright, novelist, and teacher. The poem I submitted was: Fish and Open Mic Night.  This is the revised copy, dated January 25, 2011.]

Fish and Open Mic Night

Poached, steamed,
broiled, boiled,
dried, fried
in soups and saucers,
piled high,
their eyes bright,
their silver bodies shimmer
in the harsh light of the hall. 

Fish and open mic night
at Der Schnitzel.
Ten fish dishes
ten acts.
Comics, poets, a demure cello player,
“a little person” (with a big heart) on harmonica,
a shy, chubby teen singing a familiar “Oh, Baby...Oh, Baby” tune, a cappella,
memorized note by note by note,
listening to a CD every day after pom-pom practice.

Fierce in its stilted taste and organized fun,
glorious in attempts to dazzle and entertain,
certain the crowd is buzzed and fuzzy
on the beer and polite, white wine.  

We squirm and fidget,
embarrassed for the people on the stage – a few feet above our heads
and so close to our table
we see their silver fillings on the high notes. 

There are holes in the older woman's hose when she sits on the stool to read her poem.
She has one, clear, drop of mucus on the tip of her nose.
Some of us can only focus on that precise,  perfectly round secretion - so clear and symmetrical
the unintentional lens magnifies the stage behind her. 

We feel sorry, and made more uneasy
when she loses her place. 
Her poem is about lost love.
When she finishes, she puts her head down and seems to sob.
Her shoulders hunch and her chest surges.

The stage hand moves to her quickly to touch her shoulder and say something in her ear.

The fish know nothing of this drama. They lie quietly in the pans and plates, oblivious to all around them.  They are better for it.

Internet Anagram Server : Odds & Ends

Internet Anagram Server : Odds & Ends: "# Camry, a car from Toyota is an anagram of my car.
# Elantra, a car from Hyundai is an anagram of A rental.

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Internet Anagram Server : Animated gif for 'Thomas Pitre = Atheist Romp'

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Flash Fiction & Fable

FLASH FICTION AND FABLE
an experimental and experiential workshop
Beginning April 8 and running for five, consecutive weeks on Friday or Saturday, depending on pre-enrollment.  The workshop will meet at The Center, 144 Tripp Rd., from 10am until 1pm. Write thomaspitre AT gmail DOT com with the subject "write at the center" in the subject line if you would like to participate.  Instructor: Thomas Pitre

Beautiful Youth by Gottfried Benn : Poetry Magazine [poem/magazine] : Find Poems and Poets. Discover Poetry.

Beautiful Youth by Gottfried Benn : Poetry Magazine [poem/magazine] : Find Poems and Poets. Discover Poetry.: "- Sent using Google Toolbar" The author was a med student. This is heady stuff.

What Shapes Our Language? [INFOGRAPHIC] | Voxy Blog

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31 Free Online Writing Courses — Freelance Writing Jobs | A Freelance Writing Community and Freelance Writing Jobs Resource

31 Free Online Writing Courses — Freelance Writing Jobs | A Freelance Writing Community and Freelance Writing Jobs Resource: "31 Free Online Writing Courses

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Koi Writer Text Editor

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Share Your Works with Others on PoetryPoetry

Share Your Works with Others on PoetryPoetry: "- Sent using Google Toolbar"

Envelope

You can write as much as you want on an envelope, and that will be the extent of your full, flash-fiction piece. 

This could be demonstrated with an envelope and text pasted on it, or you could write on it then scan it with your scanner to show others what it looks like. 

I like the conciseness of this and think it is a pretty good idea.  It came to me in a dream.

Talking with an Old Man

Everything he said was out of focus.

I pretended to listen. Huh-huh. Uh-uh. Hmmm.

I love the guy, but he puts me to sleep.

I have to keep pinching my thigh

to keep from dropping off.

Why You Learn More Effectively by Writing Than Typing

Why You Learn More Effectively by Writing Than Typing: "Why You Learn More Effectively by Writing Than Typing

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The BuFoon - Rules for Aspiring Writers

The BuFoon - Rules for Aspiring Writers: "Rules for Aspiring Writers

In Du Jour on 20 January 2011 with no comments

Writer’s Digest: You’re a successful author; do you have any advice for aspiring writers?

Tom Robbins: Not a lot. Write – and read – every day without fail. Challenge every single sentence: challenge it for lucidity, accuracy, originality, and rhythm. Never be afraid to make a fool of yourself. Stop worrying about getting published and concentrate on getting better. Don’t mistake that which is dark for that which is deep. And always bear in mind that the only rule is whatever works, works.

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Learning Lab : The Poetry Foundation

Learning Lab : The Poetry Foundation: "Poetry Learning Lab
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Begin in Delight, End in Wisdom

Developed for teachers, students, and learners of every age, this section of the site encourages readers of all levels to immerse themselves in poetry.

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RawScripts.com - Free Online Screenplay Software

RawScripts.com - Free Online Screenplay Software: "RawScripts is online screenwriting software. Scripts are private, secure and accessible from any computer. Nothing to install. You can try out the application, or login with your Google or Yahoo account and get working on your screenplay.

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A Visit to the UPS Counter

A small machine
in a deep fold
of my brain
lifts each corner of my mouth in turn
and I smile at the pretty woman
behind  the counter.

A whisper
automated
sends a spark to my chest,
and I let go
all the charm
I can muster
as the worm in my groin
stirs, recoils,
from the electricity
of this unfamiliar arena.

A feeling, not unlike
hunger
fear
paints the inside of
my stomach.

Her teeth are
straight and white.
Her eyes reflect
something  from the inside
I’d never seen.

I am validated.

Improve Your Writing by Developing a Writing Style: How to Instantly Improve Your Writing | eHow.com

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Meditating cats balance tangerines - Boing Boing

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Respelt » Spell check your website online

Respelt » Spell check your website online: "# Quickly spell check your website's content
# Automatic daily checks of your pages and RSS feeds
# 100% web based. No downloads required.
# Use Respelt bookmarklet to instantly check pages

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How To Whiten Teeth And Eyes - Retouching Portraits | PhotoshopSupport.com

How To Whiten Teeth And Eyes - Retouching Portraits | PhotoshopSupport.com: "- Sent using Google Toolbar"

Paper: The Unsuccessful Self-Treatment of A Case of "Writer's Block"

Sounds like search

Sounds like search: "Sounds like search
Please enter some word or phrase you'd like approximate matches for
Note: This gives you words which 'sound like' your word, but
it's not necessarily a rhyming dictionary

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Page views to this site by country.

Flash; Breakfast

BREAK FAST

Sarah carefully constructs my egg and cheese muffin, muffin well done, two, three times a week.

She works silently, diligently, caringly -- toasting, then re-toasting the muffins before she wraps them tightly in crinkly wax papers and places them in paper bag, folds over the top, neatly, and takes my few dollar bills and some change.

It's not a fair trade. I can watch her cook, assemble my order, take my cash, and answer the intercom to take other orders.

I inquired civilly, and came to know that she is a single mother of two. A boy, one, and a girl, five. She hasn't missed a day of work for years. Never sick, never tardy.

Today, all alone until her shift partner arrives, she seemed a little lonely and smaller still in the big kitchen, filled with shiny stainless steel forms and surfaces. The juice machine bubbles away, the milk machine letting a few drops fall into the waste tray and the espresso machine releasing a little steam. The grill smokes from a few pieces of bacon crumb or is it a scrap of egg?

Her skin is clean and clear and her pink ears stand out like little shells stuck on her head. She wears her hair in a ponytail. Her ponytail wrap is all business. A big, red, rubber band.

I noticed today that her arms are long and lean from holding and feeding babies and reaching over the hot grill to fry my eggs. The veins show through her arms from her wrists to her upper arms. Her forearms are discolored from burns from the black, iron plates covering the gas burners.

I left her a thousand dollar tip this morning at the drive-through window. I stuffed ten, one-hundred dollar bills in the jar and drove off just after she gave me a milk bone for my dog. I didn't say anything, and will deny everything the next time I'm in for an egg and cheese muffin, muffin well done.

Flash; Sketch III

I had just finished reading Ann Lamott’s book, and some of her anecdotes were fresh in my mind. 

I got into a conversation with my friend Judith, that morning, and we talked about our childhood. I told her that mine was terrific, unlike my school chum, Conrad, whose parents abandoned him after they drove a stake through his ankle and left him on the steep, clay bank above the old Mobile station.

Flash; Sketch II

Yep. I saw it. He pulled into the handicapped spot, jumped out, and walked to the front door of the gym. There was no handicapped card on his dash, clipped to the mirror, or anywhere in sight on his car. He parked in the handicapped spot so he wouldn’t have to walk from the only open space about hundred feet from the front door. I was curious, so I went in, pretending to be a visitor, and I saw him on a treadmill in the front row. He had taken off his sweatshirt, and I could see his muscle-t and the big, Adidas logo. He was in his thirties or early forties. In for a fast workout.

Short Fiction; Sketch I

He was in London with his wife, Edith. He bet her a dinner over a trivial fact in the morning Times, and the looser was to make dinner for the two of them that night. Edith lost the bet. They went to Harrod’s to shop for the ingredients. Bob wanted something special. Haggis is made with the sheep's 'pluck' (heart, liver and lungs), minced with onion, oatmeal, suet, spices, and salt, mixed with stock, and traditionally boiled in the animal's stomach. Harrod’s was fresh out of haggis, including the frozen. They ended up with a couple of tins of haggis, got some other ingredients, and headed for the hotel room. They opened the tins, and Edith cooked the meal in the suite’s microwave. Bob chuckled to himself, knowing what haggis was. Edith, not knowing anything about Bob’s Scotch heritage or diet, didn’t find out what she was preparing or eating, until they finished their meal.

Edith threw Bob’s suitcase out the back window into the lane behind the hotel, and told him not to come back until she felt that he was really sorry for what he had done. She was a sore looser. 

##

Flash Fiction

I Believe in Reincarnation

I promised friends and two of my favorite cousins that I would be coming back as a Golden Retriever.  A few months after I'm beamed up, “…the first Golden that sniffs their crotch or lifts his leg on your shoe, will be me.  Count on it.” I've always liked the Golden Retriever. They are smart, gentle, and everyone likes them.  Hence, my choice for a vessel to exist in after death.

The day I died, everything went quiet and black for a few months, then I found myself opening my eyes one day and I was nestled in a big basket next to an iron stove in someone’s living room. My stomach was full, I felt strong and rested. Big hands picked me up and I found myself staring into the face of an older, whiskered fellow with kind, brown eyes.  He tucked me in the hollow of his arm near his chest, and I could hear his heartbeat and his breathing.  A woman appeared, and then a couple of big flashes from her camera.  Her voice was familiar.  It was my cousin Joan. Somehow, I was in her home, held in the arms of her boyfriend or husband, and she was clicking away with her camera.  Matthew was the man’s name. He smelled like the woods, and had a deep and soothing voice. Joanie couldn’t stop smiling, and I swear I could see tears in her eyes.  She still wore the big piece of jade I had given her years earlier.

Joan gave me little bite of warm bread that she was eating. It felt good in my mouth, and the butter stuck to the little hairs on my muzzle. 

My hope to return as a Golden Retriever came true. I would live another thirteen or fourteen years as beloved member of Joan’s family, and then I would be happy to go to sleep and stay asleep, forever.

Getting Paid for Online Writing - Fee or Royalty | Free Writing Center

Getting Paid for Online Writing - Fee or Royalty | Free Writing Center: "Getting Paid for Online Writing - Fee or Royalty
Posted by Ryan on October 6th, 2010

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EasyBib: Your bibliography / works cited list

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