Sunday, March 13, 2022


I read a poem recently about starlight, and how much we admire its twinkle and shine, but sometimes we forget just how long and far it took that little slant of brightness to reach us. A journey not unlike the process of creativity and revisions and storytelling. A single little spark flares in the dark, and casts its beams across the void!

But sometimes, that void seems . . . endless. I doubt my ink. Even so, I try to spark a scintilla. And I must thank the random reader who bought a paperback copy of A Fair Account of the Traitors Snow White and Rose Red this month. I sincerely hope you enjoy the read! May it bring you a tiny ember of enjoyment in a world that has always spun in the dark.

I shall finish with a simple poem I wrote probably 20 years ago . . . it held such joy, and I feel that echo still.

Star Pins

When the colors

Fluid, flowing

Cross the heavens

Spilling, going

When the mountains

Stain the sun, and

The daylight comes undone

Then my heart

Is free in delight

Glad for sapphires

Pinned up at