Motherland,cradle me hold my hand lullaby me to sleep keep me safe, lie with me stay beside me don’t go, don’t you go --Natalie Merchant C H A P T E R T E N DURING THE SPRING SEMESTER OF 1974 at ...

Roy sighed, and then said, “Rachel, I would love Friday, but I already promised a friend that we would spend the night together, and-- ” “You can’t back out of that.” “Yeah, thanks for understanding.” “You shouldn’t want to back out of it,” Rachel said, displaying some DuFresne common sense. “Friends are hard to come by. I tell you what?” “Hum?” “This’ll sound stupid.” “I’m up for stupid,” Roy said. “What it... you were like my date to the funeral? And then we could go out, and do ...

P A R T F I V E C I R C L E S Damnation, damnation! Thy other name is teaching! -- Walt Whitman C H A P T E R ...

Aileen would not remember Mr. Stanley, and because of this Ida had never seen a reason to tell her about him. In fact, very few people would know anything about Mr. Stanley, and so very few people were informed about those days of wine and hashish when she burnt the ties to the old life if not, geographically, then at least sexually. The man with the yellow Volkswagen van painted with flowers, the sheepskin coat, the sheepskin condoms, and the Ted Coppell hair and a handle bar moustache was a ...

Monks and morning glories-- through many generations-- the law of the pine C H A P T E R E I G H T FOR TWO NIGHTS AILEEN FOSTER remembered her whole life. She could never get up the nerve to do anything until her nerves hurt unless she got up and did something. Maybe this is why she’d never do...

I found this on Andrew Barnett's site. He found it on Antonio Savordin's blog, so this is sort of a third degree theft. But it's the good kind. From Andrew Barnett's blog: I found this beautifully executed piece -- I forget the path that led me there -- on Antonio Savoradin's blog.http://savoradin.com/ It's about the nature of depression. I might comment on it in a few days, or work it into a longer piece I have brewing. But for now I just wanted to put it up here, before I forget. To ...

Before we begin: Now having crossed the halfway mark of our tale we find ourselves sort of in the woods and in the mists. In a tale with so many conflicting plots and characters: would be monks, gay teenagers, high school sluts, and itinerant saints not to mention Tarot card readers and sisters who grow marijuana in their backyard for public consumption, it is almost impossible not to be confused or disconcerted at some point in time. But I'll trust no one is bored yet! If you've made it this...

Post Date: Sat Jan 24, 12:18:14 PM "Planning to write is not writing. Outlining, researching, talking to people about what you're doing, none of that is writing. Writing is writing. . . . Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way." --E.L. Doctorow This could not be truer. If you're calling yourself a writer, please sit down and write something. As long as you're talking about writing somethi...

It is approaching blizzard weather today. I am really a little tired of winter by now. Shovel once, and an hour later it is time to shovel snow again. Not paying enough attention to outside weather I leave home in sneakers and it's a miracle that my feet aren't soaked through wading in the snow. This afternoon I go mass at Saint Jame's Cathedral. It's always in the little chapel and the main church is closed up except for Sunday, but today I see a hearse and two black Cadillacs and remember ...

P A R T F O U R S W I N G E R S Will I cease to be, Or will I remember Beyond the world, Our last meeting together? --Lady Izumi Shikibu C H A P T E R ...

A FEW WORDS FROM THE AUTHOR: as we go into the second part of chapter six where things come to a head for our friends and sides are taken, lines are drawn, I would like to say thank you to all who have written in with your comments and support. When I began writing this tale two, nearly three years back, the first thing in my mind was the question of who would ever read it. I had to trust that if I threw it out into the universe, the right people would find it, and so they a...

C H A P T E R S I X VAUGHAN FITZGERALD WAS NOT READY for Monday He wanted to go back to the monastery. He wanted to go back to the womb. The whole world had changed in a few days. Well then how come everything still looked the same? How come it was still January going on February. And no, he realized, the whole world had not changed. ...

i i i “CAN I CONFESS SOMETHING?” “You’re a man trapped in a woman’s body?” “Hardly that deep.” Mackenzie said. He picked up a pebble and ran a pace ahead of Ian. He threw it into the deep blue ocean. Ian ran after him. “What I was going to say,” Mackenzie said, “is that I generally expect things to go badly. I just knew it would rain the whole time. Or I’d be stuck with someone I hated.” “Instead we’re the ridiculous duo,” Ian said. “I wouldn’t say that,” Mackenzie told Ian. T...

The long and short of it: Vaughan admitted he was cool, his best friend, Mackenzie Foster, admitted he was gay. Ian Cane joined their circle of friends. His little cousin Roy came along. Roy wanted his own friends. Roy found Ryan Foster. Tina found Luke Madeary. Luke found out that he doesn't have to live in a factory. Cedric Fitzgerald found out that his house is big enough to be a virtual hotel. Madeleine, Vaughan's older sister, found out she still has feelings for her ex. Madeleine gets b...