I am now working on a writer’s version of Pinocchio, where a writer with wooden prose hopes to become a real writer someday.
Celebrations of spring
I celebrate the first crocus, the first robin of spring. Someone else can celebrate the first blackfly.
Life lessons
Never try to drink a Muse under the table.
The first year of my life had to have been awesome; I don’t even remember a moment of it!
My next novel features a chicken as a hard-boiled detective in a seedy neighborhood who finds himself in the soup. The chicken’s sidekick is a pig who’s a bit of a ham, who does all the grunt work when not swilling down drinks.
Their first case is in search of a sheep gone baaaad who’s on the lam. The sheep has amnesia and his memory is wooly.
It’s in there somewhere…
I misplaced my cordless phone; then something in the pile of remotes started ringing.
Self-winding!
One good thing about a tornado watch – you never need to wind it. It winds itself.
Inversion
I put my thinking cap on inside-out; now I’m gathering in everyone else’s thoughts. Who knew my plants were so smart?
Schröedinger’s library
I took out books from Schrödinger’s library, and now if I know where they are, I don’t know when they are due.
Schrödinger’s Dinner Reservation
I was going to have dinner with my friend Schroedinger tonight until I realized that I could know where I was to meet him or when, but not both.