I have an obsession with windows.
Which of course has metaphorical implications.
Of seeing, looking, peering, snooping, spying.
Looking into the now, or the future,
or the past,
into someone's most private areas, their home or shop.
The idea of a portal, of movement.
Of reflection, obliqueness, distortion, refraction.
There's the poignance of a broken window.
Or one that's painted shut.
There's a shadow constantly hovering at my shoulder. For all my gallivanting into the social whirl, nevermind the positive social media...
Ever wondered what it takes to get a piece of fiction published? I'm not talking New Yorker type of prose. That's a rarefied world ...
Check out my new video, a brief reading from a story published this past spring in Opossum.
Welp, after a half-year experiment in social media, BSP has returned to its blogger roots. I hated Faceborkland, tbh. Sure, it was easier t...