Monthly Archives: December 2013

The Rum Cake Runner’s Poem

Ok. If you haven’t been over to Crossed Genres Magazine to read my first-ever published story, “The Rum Cake Runner,” please go do so. It’s short. It’s (hopefully) fun. I’m immensely proud of it.

And while you’re there, read the other stories from the December issue. They’re great.

And in case you need a teaser, below is the entire story in a short poem. (In my Spotlight Author Interview I talk a bit about how sometimes I outline in verse. Because I’m strange. And I like to rhyme.) SPOILERS ahead.

ILLICIT CONFECTIONS

Round and through old asian ladies, shopping

totes full to the brim, a wee olive-skinned

boy with a stash quit two lawmen bopping

along in his trail. The goons twisted, pinned

by the contraband-scenting mutts they held

tight on eLeash. The market browsers thinned

deliberately lagging, letting boy meld

into the bustling horde of produce

bazaar. The pigs and their dogs, not dispelled,

came yet, flashing badge and fang to induce

rabble to move, which they did, albeit

still slowly. Success! Small runner reduced

to a speck in the crowd. The cops credit

was met so they stopped and groaned a fake sigh

over the missed lad, his bootleg packet

of sweet goods. Their mock chase, their outcry,

crooked– for they knew the baker’s young son

needed precinct sweet teeth (and cash) to buy

the final cannoli and cream saffron

cakes. He would swing by them last to be sure

that he took home his pastry bag barren

                                                            and his pockets full.

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Writing Assistant Monday: First Gift of Christmas Edition

Writing Assistant Owl

 

When I was little, my brother and I would BEG my Mutti to let us open gifts before Christmas. All the gifts. Any gift. Just one gift.

And she always said no.

Until one year, she got us each a first-gift-of-Christmas that we could open early. Usually when we set up the tree, because it was always an ornament.

Kyle & I have continued the tradition, which I love. Every year I hunt down something new and unique just for him, and every year I get a memento to discover and remember when we set up the tree again and again.

This year my first-gift is a writing owl. He’s doubling as a writing assistant for the next couple weeks.

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Writing Assistant Monday

In which, Donna isn’t all that helpful, actually.

Writing Assistant. Writer Conquered

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