Welcome to the Vault
A haven for the magical, whimsical and nonsensical. You fit right in. Below are some of my treasures--yours too, now. Click on Part 1 to read my fantasy-mystery novel Beastslayer. Or scroll for some award-winning short stories and poems. At the bottom, there's free art and wallpapers.
More to come. Stay whimsical.
Experienced Writer for Your Project
about BEASTSLAYER
Literally a world apart, sisters Maree and Tarisa can only send a letter to each other every four days with the help of magic seals. With Maree in hiding on a ship with a murdered captain and Tarisa left behind to unravel the dark politics of court, will they ever see each other alive again?
AVAILABLE ON ROYAL ROAD AND WATTPAD
Whimsical Short Stories
One Scoop or two
One Scoop or two
One Scoop or two
Dismally, Tom stared down at his phone, and the 59% F next to his ECON 101 quiz. He trudged along the strip-mall sidewalk, the colorful fronts of the fast-food joints flashing by him like clowns in a bad dream...
Fallen sparrow
One Scoop or two
One Scoop or two
The basement room was dark at 4:48 AM, and very full. Between the insomniac in me and the fourteen half-awake, toddling baby chicks the room was very full indeed--full of chirps and cheep-cheeps and whistles and poop and God. Only I didn’t realize God was there at first.
Love by design
One Scoop or two
Love by design
Everyday Printing was all about love sometimes. Wedding invitations, bar mitzvah invitations--we even printed the occasional Will and Testament, which often had a lot more to do with people loving money than each other. As a graphic designer, I made love look good. Except when love was designed for me....
Whimsical Poems
Clouds
Ode to laundry
Ode to laundry
Life is like looking at clouds in the sky,
And seeing trains and bunnies and flying
Turtles or dancing mice or a thousand
Ridiculous, lovely things.
Or we see in the clouds
Shrouds and guns and game table rungs
Ladders or yesterday’s bitter fight
We look for whimsy in the clouds
And find it with a poof of delight
We look for trouble and sadness and gloom
And the clouds rumble and darken too.
Ode to laundry
Ode to laundry
Ode to laundry
Faithfully, you pile up
Not with praises but with grime
And smelly pits and mystery gunk
That showed up after yesterday’s lunch.
My mind always returns to you
When in my drawer I look and find
Naught, only the pants I tuck
Away, for when my waist has shrunk
Through thick and thin, you cling to me
Until I toss you in a bin, stalling for time
To wash and spray and dry and fluff
As evermore, you pile up.
Heart
Ode to laundry
For one
A heart does not quite understand
The words, ‘the end’
It beats for always
Remembers then like now
Knows when to cry
But decides on its own
When to let go.
For one
FinalS week
For one
I tried to sing for days and days,
My song could not break loose.
I swirled on the canvas, paints,
But everything turned blue.
Taking my pen I wrote and wrote,
But all I scrawled was, “Naught”.
Dancing, my feet could never float,
On music that wrenched my heart.
Come back, my love, and bring to me,
Color and song and sun.
Until then, I will paint and play,
A silent song for one.
FinalS week
FinalS week
FinalS week
I toss and turn, like drying socks,
The darkness not quite soothing,
Wide-eyed I stare into the void,
Numb and burn-out brooding.
My brain is sparking like an outlet
Doused in soapy water.
Dates and men in wigs and doublets
Float up from my grey matter.
Dishes moldering on my desk,
Sad laundry piled high.
Testify to tests and essays
Full of despera
I toss and turn, like drying socks,
The darkness not quite soothing,
Wide-eyed I stare into the void,
Numb and burn-out brooding.
My brain is sparking like an outlet
Doused in soapy water.
Dates and men in wigs and doublets
Float up from my grey matter.
Dishes moldering on my desk,
Sad laundry piled high.
Testify to tests and essays
Full of desperate lies.
Long ago I ceased to care,
Who won the War of Roses.
What madman named bloody battles,
After a bunch of posies?
My foreign language never seemed
So foreign to my tongue,
In my exam, all I could think:
“Is it ‘une’ or is it ‘un’?”
I am certainly not finished
Nor have I just begun.
But finals week starts Monday and
My brain’s already done!
Endings
FinalS week
FinalS week
We like to end the stories
When the pauper gets his crown
When the team wins all, against the odds,
And the mermaid gets her song.
If not there, then everywhere,
Mankind’s flaws stop the heart
Where evil and its thousand faces
Leave ever-jagged scars.
Triumph and her tragedy
Are liars both to time
After ‘fin’ drips from the pen
Both visit by and b
We like to end the stories
When the pauper gets his crown
When the team wins all, against the odds,
And the mermaid gets her song.
If not there, then everywhere,
Mankind’s flaws stop the heart
Where evil and its thousand faces
Leave ever-jagged scars.
Triumph and her tragedy
Are liars both to time
After ‘fin’ drips from the pen
Both visit by and by.
We like to write the endings
Never finding them in life
Yet in the in-betweens are found
Bright glory in the strife
So end the story with silence dark
When none can see the dawn,
But let me hear the little voice, that says,
“I will go on.”
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