Blog Archives

Mei Li

I am Mei Li. I am only a girl. It is 1850, the year of the dog. I am fourteen, so I was born in the year of the monkey, an auspicious sign. My father says this means I bring

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Three More Reviews for The Art of Losing

We’ve gotten three more reviews for The Art of Losing and our editor, Daniel White, has put us in for an IPPY! You’ll definitely hear more about the IPPY if it pans out, but for now, I thought I’d share

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Posted in The Art of Losing

Trip to Tahoe

Northern California, January, 1931 Spencer downshifted the old Ford truck as they took another tight corner. The mountain road to Tahoe was none too safe, especially not with all the snow and ice from the recent storm, but they should

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We Are Eagles

40% of young eagles do not survive their first flight–baldeagleinfo.com/ “We are eagles,” Shadow’s father said, his fierce eyes the color of the sun. “And the sky is our home,” Shadow’s mother replied. The two eagles traded approving looks and

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One Line Wednesday Reflections

I joined in One Line Wednesday on Twitter for the first time in quite a while last week. But perhaps because of the break, I was really struck by the value of it. Not so much for the marketing value,

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Posted in Twitter

The Dragon and the Giant

  Rose looked up from the fire into her family’s pinched faces. The Humboldt Valley was the cruelest land she’d ever seen. Constant worry–for the horses, for each other, for the terrible choices they might still have to make–they had

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The Proper Hospitality

Kansas Territory, 1856 Rose’s gaze kept drifting toward the barn as she and Jean-Pierre groomed the horses. “I just can’t believe it,” she said finally. “We have a brownie or leprechaun or something magic anyway, actually living in our hayloft.”

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Dive

“Ready? Dive.” I clenched my regulator in my teeth and released the reservoir of air in the apparatus strapped to my back. The twenty-plus pounds of lead around my hips ensured that the waters of the Pacific Ocean closed rapidly

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A Worm Tale

I believe there’s a genetic component to empathy. Certainly it can be learned or suppressed, but it seems there’s an inborn disposition as well. Especially when it comes to animals. My mother and I are both overly empathetic, to the

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Who Do You Write Like?

Okay, you write like you, and that’s as it should be. But still, there are commonalities in writing, and there are those we aspire to be something like. I’d LOVE to be told I write like Rudyard Kipling–James Joyce not

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Posted in Writing
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