Monthly Archives: November 2013

Even in America, home is where (historically) the class is I grew up in a Southern mill town. Such towns come in one of three primary flavors: tobacco, textiles, or furniture. My hometown was a textiles town, the home of several … Continue reading →

From screwball comedy to – well, screwball comedy I’m in the midst of reading a detailed architectural history of my hometown, Eden, NC, a gift from my lovely and talented mate. While interesting (to me, anyway, since I’m from there), it is … Continue reading →

The short story as its own reward To paraphrase an old joke, dying is easy; writing short stories is hard. This review looks at a compilation from one of the budget publishers, Dover, called Great English Short Stories. As you can … Continue reading →

Fishing on top of the old Smokies In an entry written not too awfully long ago, I confessed to one of my great passions and pleasures in life: fly fishing for trout here in my native North Carolina mountains. As you … Continue reading →

Man’s one method, whether he reasons or creates, is to half-shut his eyes against the dazzle and confusion of reality …. Life is monstrous, infinite, illogical, abrupt and poignant; a work of art, in comparison, is neat, finite, self-contained, rational, … Continue reading →

Should writers care about readers? This starts with a conversation I had in graduate school. I was trying to decide which author I would focus on for my master’s thesis. I knew it wouldn’t be a poet (I adore poetry and have a … Continue reading →