Ghosts need no doors, they remember the way with the scent of old bones clinging to the sod when it's peach picking time. The dead—They don’t crowd me blue. It’s the livingwho press their palms against the rootsof the...

Tonight, I am interviewing, Drieks, who I find to be an accomplished artist who has reached the banks of The Avalon. Her dark side amazes me, and I am no stranger to the world of psychological horror. I cut my...

In my daily decorum at my small and humble bookshop, I often get into conversations with my customers. One can "almost" figure the personality of a person by what they read. I, personally, write, mostly fiction, which requires imagination....

Welcome to my pendulum, dowsing your psyche. I am but, a Homie, in the deep south, who took up writing some years ago. Often I spin words without an atlas or thesaurus. So, tonight, I thought I would ask...