Flash Poem to Self: “Be confident, not sad sap, sipping quietly in corner bar:” On Writing, the Bohemian Lifestyle, and Balancing Art/Mind.

I will be confident — not sad sap, sipping quietly in corner bar.

I will be, act, speak with intention.

I will be finished, will shop my novel. 

Prologue to a Memoir: A Rough Draft, a Novel, a Working Confesson.

A strange thing happens when you begin to contemplate the end. It’s as if setting such a definitive goal opens the world to endless possibilities: a phone is buzzing,

From the Rooftops of Granada — an excerpt from my manuscript for ‘The Outsider.’ A Confessional Memoir/Novel on Identity, Love, Travel and Revolution in the Arab Spring.

I mean, it’s not cheating if nothing happens. Oh, but emotions run deep. Which begs the question: What’s worse, an emotional or a physical affair?

Opening lines: A Story About Identity, Revolution, and What it Means to Be a Modern Human. A Work in Progress #LiteraryFiction

Excerpt from The Outsider: A Memoir?
“The sky out my window is that fiery red which makes the heart swell with life and there it is again: that sensational expanding within my chest, rising to my throat, gripping and stinging my eyes.”

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Am I Fooling Myself?

Am I fooling myself? Despite many attempts to complete my novel the writing continues to be obscured by vague details and scenes fall apart before closing. I understand how scenes work, and spend hours a day taking notes on published authors –what makes their work flow and read so beautifully?– but I can’t seem to