Tag Archives: family

White Ravens…And More Stories

Posted on October 9, 2018 by

Coming October 31, 2018 to your favorite book source from Word Hermit Press: (Cover design: Vinnie Kinsella Book Publishing Services) This is a collection of tales set in the modern American West with characters who somehow dispel the rugged individualist … Continue reading →

Posted in Action-adventure, Aging, Alcohol, American history, American Indian, animals, Beach, Birds, California, Coyote, crow, family, Fishing, Friendship, Gratitude, Home, Humans, humor, Jim Stewart, memory, Ocean, Oregon, Outdoor cooking, Reading, Short Story, Uncategorized, Universe, walking, Water, Wildlife, Wisdom, women, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

A Celebration of Brian Doyle

Posted on October 3, 2017 by

Wonderful piece by Michael McGregor. Check it out: https://magazine.nd.edu/news/the-story-catcher/

Posted in Art, Brain, Brian Doyle, Gratitude, Hope, Humans, humor, Kids, memory, Oregon, pals, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Ochoco Reach Audiobook, Ahoy!

Posted on December 22, 2016 by

Shameless plug: my novel Ochoco Reach is now available as an audiobook on both audible.com and iTunes. If you download it, I’d very much appreciate a review and some other noise of your own choosing. Click on the link in … Continue reading →

Posted in Action-adventure, American Indian, animals, Audiobook, Ochoco Reach, Reading, Uncategorized, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Haiku: For Brian

Posted on November 23, 2016 by

My friend, if I could exchange places with you now I most surely would.

Posted in Absolutes, Brain, Brian Doyle, Consciousness, crow, Friendship, future, Gratitude, Haiku, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Haiku–Brick and Mortar

Posted on May 30, 2015 by

Bricks upon more bricks; playing with mud holds them tight. Sore: understatement. (brick: obsidiandesign.com; circle: backdoorsurvival.com)

Posted in Home, Masonry, Work | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

Dead-end Dad

Posted on December 3, 2013 by

Flags wave in the breezy dark as houselights shine for no one. Across the street below, tired ghosts dance on closed garage doors. My cigar glows and ash sticks to my shirt. The wind tries to brush it away, but … Continue reading →

Posted in Aging, family, Poem, Slice of Death, Slice of Life | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments