Weeds [Carrie Walker]
In Michigan this year, it’s forgotten how to winter. So on yet another unseasonably warm day I spent some time cleaning up the yard. Flowers don’t have buds yet and the grass is still half yellow, but guess what is flourishing in all it’s glory? A WEED! Of course. Aren’t they a beautiful joy? Looking…
Giving Myself Over [Henry O. Arnold]
If I as a writer am to tell a story, I must give myself over to its peculiar flow. As the power of the story begins to rise up within me, I must sit down and write. I yield. I isolate. I watch and listen. I resist the temptation to manipulate, and I allow the…
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