Qualm: When humans meet

Two human beings, just met, yet they are burrowed in their own qualms.

An atheist, A christian.

A man. A woman.

A conservative. A liberal.

A Broncos fan. A Packers fan.

One rich. One poor.

Yet, both… are human.

Existence is here.  Right now.

A monologue of opinion,

fire hoses spray

water comes out,

nothing goes in.

How can anyone be wrong,

if everyone is right?

 …

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert

 

 

Boneyard, Writers Garden

Writing, like growing,

the next chapter demands risk,

stories sent to die.

Dear friends,

It is time for me to begin sending submissions out to be considered for publication.  In 2016 I was comfortable in just sending out Opinion articles to the local paper.  Short 300 word musings.  That was an amazing experience, I think 16 made it to the light and were read by people I never met.  Now, I need to get brave and start sending out bigger and bolder pieces.  I read ‘On Writing’ by Steven King about 10 years ago.  It was supplemental reading for a 200 level English credit creative writing class.  I remember him saying something about the large spike he put on his wall to pierce rejection letters.  For those of you old enough to remember the deli’s numbered ticket dispensers, they would have that spike on their desk to skewer the numbers as the customers placed their orders.  Anyhow.  My plan, is to submit, and see what happens.  Rejection letters along with silence, will bring my writing to the boneyard.  Meaning, I will post them for the blog community to perform salvage, or perhaps hold services and say goodbye.  In either case, I want to set a goal of 100 rejections, as in, I will submit 100 writings by the end of 2017.  If my writing gets better by 101, then it will be worth it.  The ‘Boneyard / Writers garden will be my digital spike, and I think I may grab one from the hardware store today.

Fellow readers,

Fellow writers,

Shall we begin a salvage writing collaboration?

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert

 

 

To un-write the none

Again, it is, that the moon siphons my ambition.

Stories on life support, their pulses faintly scratched in the black book I keep in my pocket.

I have wanted to have a book put together by now.

And yet, I have none.

Blogging, is my daily driver.  To write.  To have consistency.

I have a flash fiction story, in my orange notebook, written quickly in red.  Now it hungers to be read.

Excuses to not write, there are none.

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert