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Baiting the Writing Hooks and Reeling It In–by Daniel Holland
Here’s Daniel Holland’s fanciful description of his writing process.–JGR I’m good at getting the hooks and baiting the hooks. I’m frustrated though, once my line is in the water. I don’t yet know how to play the line so I can get the bites and catch the fish. There’s my line in the water, dangling,…
“I Am Gardener,” by Daniel Holland
I eat, smell, inhale, and cling to the dirt. I am gardener, feel my grit.
“Walking Over Water,” a poem by Daniel Holland
Walking Over Water Stick falls off oak tree in winter’s bare delight. Thin stick over deep water, chilled water. “Courage!” I say to my bare tingly toes.
“Gods Watching,” by Daniel Holland
A few summers ago Daniel and I went swimming in Clear Lake together…on the swimming beach at the Clear Lake State Park. I’m a strong swimmer and he’s more a dog paddler. When he ran into some water plants, he panicked and it felt as if he were having a heart attack. I swam towards…
“Time Bottle,” a poem by Daniel Holland
I put my mind in a time bottle. Watch the particles of brain matter funnel down the sand trap called Time.
“Snow Story Lies,” by Daniel Holland
I always lie when I tell snow stories. You say you walked to school as a kid in two feet of snow. I say I walked in three feet of snow. Not only that–it was 20 degrees below zero. There were no bathrooms in sight, a lot of people around. I was pee-shy.
Baiting the Writing Hooks and Reeling It In–by Daniel Holland
Here’s Daniel Holland’s fanciful description of his writing process.–JGR I’m good at getting the hooks and baiting the hooks. I’m frustrated though, once my line is in the water. I don’t yet know how to play the line so I can get the bites and catch the fish. There’s my line in the water, dangling,…
“I Am Gardener,” by Daniel Holland
I eat, smell, inhale, and cling to the dirt. I am gardener, feel my grit.
“Walking Over Water,” a poem by Daniel Holland
Walking Over Water Stick falls off oak tree in winter’s bare delight. Thin stick over deep water, chilled water. “Courage!” I say to my bare tingly toes.
“Gods Watching,” by Daniel Holland
A few summers ago Daniel and I went swimming in Clear Lake together…on the swimming beach at the Clear Lake State Park. I’m a strong swimmer and he’s more a dog paddler. When he ran into some water plants, he panicked and it felt as if he were having a heart attack. I swam towards…
“Time Bottle,” a poem by Daniel Holland
I put my mind in a time bottle. Watch the particles of brain matter funnel down the sand trap called Time.
“Snow Story Lies,” by Daniel Holland
I always lie when I tell snow stories. You say you walked to school as a kid in two feet of snow. I say I walked in three feet of snow. Not only that–it was 20 degrees below zero. There were no bathrooms in sight, a lot of people around. I was pee-shy.
Baiting the Writing Hooks and Reeling It In–by Daniel Holland
Here’s Daniel Holland’s fanciful description of his writing process.–JGR I’m good at getting the hooks and baiting the hooks. I’m frustrated though, once my line is in the water. I don’t yet know how to play the line so I can get the bites and catch the fish. There’s my line in the water, dangling,…
“I Am Gardener,” by Daniel Holland
I eat, smell, inhale, and cling to the dirt. I am gardener, feel my grit.
“Walking Over Water,” a poem by Daniel Holland
Walking Over Water Stick falls off oak tree in winter’s bare delight. Thin stick over deep water, chilled water. “Courage!” I say to my bare tingly toes.
“Gods Watching,” by Daniel Holland
A few summers ago Daniel and I went swimming in Clear Lake together…on the swimming beach at the Clear Lake State Park. I’m a strong swimmer and he’s more a dog paddler. When he ran into some water plants, he panicked and it felt as if he were having a heart attack. I swam towards…
“Time Bottle,” a poem by Daniel Holland
I put my mind in a time bottle. Watch the particles of brain matter funnel down the sand trap called Time.
“Snow Story Lies,” by Daniel Holland
I always lie when I tell snow stories. You say you walked to school as a kid in two feet of snow. I say I walked in three feet of snow. Not only that–it was 20 degrees below zero. There were no bathrooms in sight, a lot of people around. I was pee-shy.
There is a lot of philosophy in these few lines. Yes, griping, comparing the shadows of the past. They do dog us, don’t they? I enjoy the image of you tanning in the richness of today’s sunlight.
As a professional griper, I take offense at the notion of needing a sun burn. You, on the other hand, get to tan! “Unfair!” she griped.