I live in the Texas hill country. These days, I write mostly short pieces. I also edit Camroc Press Review, a wonderfully satisfying experience, full of emotional jolts I am increasingly addicted to.
Writing and showcasing micro prose & poetry is about all I have time for. Lucky me.
Lots of poets and flash writers, many now in CPR's archives. More than a few of those pieces were, in fact, discovered at Fictionaut. I am glad to be here.
I liked your comment on the recent "constructive criticism" thread/forum, fwiw. I'm new & looking for contacts and you seem like my type of human. I'm looking forward to reading your work. Take care.
Great grandad fought with Sherman in the Civil War. He was a foot soldier who kept a diary in pencil that is frustratingly terse: "Today marched 22 miles SW, camped after short engagement." His son, my grandad, WW1. My dad and uncle, WW2. Neither ever talked about it, and it wasn't until after they died I found air combat photos taken by my uncle aboard a B-52 bomber. They hated the military--they just did what they had to do. Most of their friends were like that too. Didn't want to talk about it, ever, but woke up sweating or crying some nights. My mother-in-law, from Winnepeg, had both young brothers drafted in the late 30's by the U.K.; Britain used its Canadians as the first to fly RAF missions and both these boys were shot down and killed. One, amazingly, lasted a long time. My father-in-law was shot down twice, in the sea both times, but fought in the skies over Italy and Africa and Germany. He was such a good flyer he was asked to pilot Jimmy Doolittle to an awards ceremony. He'
Hi, Barry. Thanks for the message. Adding you to my contacts as I find this a good way to see what folks with similar tastes like and discover pieces I may otherwise miss.
Ah, Barry, thanks for reading my blog. You continue to publish consistently wonderful work at CPR. Congrats.