Journey into My Imagination
Or why I just stopped to do the dishes and clean the kitchen at 2 AM. October, one of my three favorite months of the year, came creeping in less than a week ago. It's arrival was not greeted by my customary set up of all things orange and black. My ghosts and skeletons have... Continue Reading →
There is nothing easy about becoming a writer.
In the places where cobwebs dance with wayward socks and discarded shoes, The places where we know the monsters lurk to eat us when we snooze?
And through it all trains follow their tracks, steam pouring from their engines, transporting the townspeople to and fro.
Could I have learned to teach and even write without studying which great British poets wrote their poetry on hallucinogens and when? Probably, but I took the class anyway because I liked the professor.
Romance is the steady and the unexpected
Who is on your list, tell me. I really want to know No judgement.
Shannon McCauley - Author 