A bittersweet story of summer, childhood and imaginary friends.
After a short comment by a friend on Twitter, about books and reading I had to share this one poem.
I baked some bread today, have some poetry to go with that.
What is it that defines the Great *insert Nationality* Novel?
What is it that makes a piece of literature stand above all others released at the same time? That makes it better than the literature that has been released previously?
After some late night ruminations while inebriated, a resulting exchange with a friend (the one who is responsible for one of the characters) and this story was born with my novel main character and a guest star. I suppose I should link to this story as well, as it is an introduction piece of sorts to the guest star.
I ruminate a bit on one of my favorite subjects, continuing a little from yesterday’s blog post.
Today Plinky asked me what my favorite part was about visiting a new place, if it was the food, the architecture or the people watching. Honestly, I don’t think that’s very fair of them.