Category Archives: Loose Chunks of Debris

Fiction, semi-fiction, thoughts, essays, haiku, and all other posts that strike a chord.

Descansos II – Cleansing

Descansos II. Cleansing. Continue reading

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Descansos

Traveling cross-country, each time I see a Descanso I wonder about the story. Who died? What happened? Were they young? Old? At fault? An innocent victim? Descansos are rare on interstates, and some states have banned them. But here in … Continue reading

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How to Publish in 12 Months or More

Writing fiction is wrenching and emotional. On some days, writing a novel is a hateful task, on other days it’s your reason to breathe. It’s hard work, for sure. And once it is conceived and started, it becomes parasitic in … Continue reading

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Ant Patrol

It’s 2 a.m. and there’s an ant crawling along the edge of my laptop screen. Continue reading

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What Ellis gave us

I have a folder in my filing cabinet called ‘Ellis Avery’. It’s filled with my semester’s work in her Master Fiction class 10 years back, and, more poignantly, the notes she’d handwritten in the margins. It also holds several manila … Continue reading

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Handiwork

Summer near the ocean brings balmy air that frizzes hair and seeps humidity into crisp dry sheets no sooner than you lay them down. But it’s nothing compared to what it does to the outside of a house. After a … Continue reading

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The Human Side of Business

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William Burroughs, Gore Vidal, and Los Alamos

Perhaps the most antithetical place on the planet to mention on or around Earth Day is Los Alamos, New Mexico, site of the development of mankind’s ultimate destructive weapon for Planet Earth. Yet that’s where I found myself a few … Continue reading

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A Dogs’ Graveyard

In the 1920s, two wealthy, avant-garde sisters from New York stopped in Santa Fe to get their hair done, fell in love with the landscape, bought several acres and created an artists’ respite called El Delirio. Amelia-Elizabeth and Martha White … Continue reading

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Aviophobia

April 1. 11:17 p.m. We’re somewhere over Kansas and climbing. I watch the speed and altitude while I fly, wondering what cockpit chatter is about, trying to put myself there to understand. I’m a nervous flier. I question every little … Continue reading

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