Author Archives: William Stubblefield
What a curious stand of blackberries, that no spirits inhabit.
Thoughts on writing, publishing, and the creative life I recently self-published two works of fiction: a fantasy for kids (and adults with active imaginations) entitled How Mother Rat Invented the World and a fantasy adventure novel set in the Homeric Bronze Age … Continue reading
It snowed heavily last night, and I found myself waking to the task of Shoveling a hundred feet of driveway. “Hire someone with a snowplow; You’re too old to be doing this,” My wife said in her female wisdom. “I’m … Continue reading
Dreams fly free, Embracing phantom lovers, Absent friends, lost In a rubble of memory, Inhabiting imagined worlds— A body forms from thought: Choirs of humming synapses Enfleshed and wandering. A dream is a physical thing. I dreamed I was on … Continue reading
Shards of memory litter my mind,Adolescent complaints and ancient regrets,Hopes and disappointments left behindLike yellowed notes of uncollected debts. Useless fictions, dreams, desires, lies,The masks I wore for work, success, protection,Love’s nakedness—a lonely man’s disguise.Longing becomes a habit, desire a … Continue reading