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I've been writing short fiction for seven years. To date, I've had 27 stories published - 26 by e-zines in the US, Canada and the UK; one in a hard copy book published in Canada. 

I'm a Fall 2017 graduate of the famous Sarah Selecky Writing School's 'Story Intensive' program. I highly recommend this four-month, online classroom experience using a very effective virtual classroom tool that allows anyone to easily share their class assignments, new work and comments with other members of their class no matter where in the world each member may live.

I regularly submit new work to competitions and the editors of online journals and e-zines that I find interesting and potentially accepting of my style of telling a story. While I've enjoyed modest success, I have accumulated a great many of those 'thanks, but not for us' emails from editors!

My published work is spread out across the internet. It takes a lot of work on your part to find it all. So I've …
Recent posts


You ever held something with sharp edges? You know, edges and angles so rough that if you rub them too hard, it hurts, might even cut you. When you hold it, you know you really have to be careful. But you just can’t help yourself. It’s really all about those jagged edges. You just have to touch them. Once. Twice. Many times. Admittedly, it’s the sharpness you enjoy. As if you’re almost daring them to cut you. Maybe even make you bleed.
Well, it’s exactly the same kind of thing with me and this purple stone I’m holding in my hand. It has several sides. Many years ago they were jagged edges, freshly broken off a purple crystal somewhere along a Lake Huron beach. Over the years, the waves and sand have worked on it. Continually polishing those hard, sharp parts. Now, it’s smooth as glass.
The purple stone always reminds me that while it doesn’t seem like it at the time, the sharp parts of my life will smooth out. Everything will become beautiful again.
So what am I saying to you? Yes, ther…


When Becky suggested Andrea’s brother could do magic tricks at our wedding reception, well, of course, I didn’t think much of that idea. A magic act at our wedding? Just how crazy is that?
I know it sounds odd now saying it out loud, but back then I couldn’t tell her what I really thought. In a couple of weeks, Becky was going to become my wife. She was stubbornly seized upon this guy’s magic act so what was I supposed to do? Me saying no, I mean, telling her it was a crazy stupid idea. It just didn’t seem to be the best way to start off our marriage. So, I kept quiet.
“Ok, Beck. What’s this guy’s name? You know anything about his act? What’s he do that’s so special?”
“I’ve known Teddie practically all my life. He calls himself The Totally Awesome Theodore. A nice guy. Besides, Andrea says he’s become an excellent magician. Apparently, doing card tricks is one of his specialties. When we were growing up, Teddie always pestered me to watch his latest trick. One of his favourites was with …


This old skeleton key? Hard t’notice most times cuz it’s hangin’ round my neck.
Somethin’ special?
Not really. Well – suppose it’s special in some way. Least to me anyways.
Last March - you probably ‘member when I was goin’ through that bad patch, a banker down at the TD – yeah, that one over on the corner - well, when he was heading inside, he dropped that key into my spare change hat.
‘You’ll be surprised what fortune it’ll bring you, Red’ he said.
He always called me Red. Back then my hair was more red-brown with a few white speckles through it. More on the white side o’ things now.
Anyways, that banker guy was laughin’ when he said them words, so I don’t put much stock in it.
You wanna hold it? Sure, here. Take a closer look. Notice anythin’?
Yeah, me too. Right off the bat, just like you. The damn thing’s givin’ off some heat. Not quite a burn but it’s pretty warm. 
Nothin’ else?
The top’s odd shape? Yeah. What’s it look like to you?
A wolf’s head? Now that’s real interestin’. I’d been th…


The fresh summer wind sluiced down the east valley, spilling into the open barnyard, tumbling unseen over and around the clustered wooden buildings. It was the perfect situation for the Red Tail to pay another visit.
But Roo was ready for him. Always had been, always would be. No creature was going to bring harm to his girls. Not on his watch.
This morning, Roo was in his place at the peak of the drive shed roof, awaiting the hawk’s expected arrival. If Roo took a bit of a run in the narrow lane between the barn and driveshed, he could get just enough good air to make it to the lower edge of the roof. While his landing was not always the most graceful, he made the best of it. Roosters aren’t much at flying. But with lots of practice and wing strength, larger birds like Roo could get enough distance and the necessary elevation to get the job done. Every day, Roo made sure he spent some time working on it.
On the shed roof, Roo strutted quickly to the peak. At the edge overlooking the yar…