Writing

Just write.  That was all he said.  What was I supposed to write about?  That time that I had to jump out of a helicopter because I wrote a mystery thriller, and my well-meaning but incredibly stupid agent decided to put it as nonfiction so there I was getting shot at by gang while the CIA …

Exercise

“Why do you always exercise?”  “I don’t know. I guess I just do.”  “Do you not like the way you look?”  “Not really, but… I don’t know.”  “Has exercise changed the way you look?”  “No, I mean… I don’t know why I do it.”  “What’s the matter?”  “I guess I’m just tired is all.”  “You …

Stare

The first thing I want to do is call my sister. But I don't. I just stare at the picture.  My stomach rises up to my throat, and then it drops down to my feet and drags everything else along with it. But I don't feel like crying. The pain isn't anything new. I'm just …