Category Archives: Autobiographical Writing

“Hewit’s Report” by Gene Stewart in New Anthology of International Genre Fiction

     

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Me & Elves & Me

As to glimpses from windows, when I was 4 and 5, I used to watch what I called The Faeries outside, through my bedroom window, late at night. They’d play and work in our yard then, and often noticed me and tried to get me … Continue reading

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Shadowed Life Memoirs

Some Random Creepy Autobiographical Stuff: Small taters but true:  I was in the kitchen preparing the post-pills snack I’m supposed to have.  The floor was clear.  I know this because I’d dropped a fork.  Went into the living room to … Continue reading

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A Missing Time Incident

My friend Dan and I were talking one summer evening in my living room at 600 W. Lloyd St. in Ebensburg, PA.  We were sitting in the living room but around 11 my mother came partly down the stairs and … Continue reading

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What Suits the Audience

I watch SUITS. I see how it is manipulative, simplistic, and shallow, using every cheap soap opera trick to jerk the feelings of sappy open-mouth viewers. Every move is obvious, predictable, and as familiar as your own discomfort. I realize … Continue reading

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Come On

My father said, “Come on,” and we walked out of the house, through the yard, and into fields on hills.  We eventually descended into a copse and there amidst the trees he took out a revolver.  “Set me up some … Continue reading

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Stranded Off Earth

Exactly: 100 words “Shivers That Linger” When you’re ten you don’t think you might die. Life is eternal, like midwest summer, and everything’s interesting. So my friend and I found a Masterlock, layers of metal, no key. “We can smash … Continue reading

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Finding Your Own Voice In Writing

Developing writers with ambition all want to find their own voices, craft their own styles, and become known as the only source for their particular writing. Then they grow up and discover that editors hate that and want mostly pastiche … Continue reading

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I Still Carry A Knife

Root causes are often breathtakingly ugly. We don’t generally let boys play with dolls because they might become… good fathers. This turned up in a brief online discussion. By the way, dangerous toys were mooted, too, and I have to … Continue reading

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Heart Eater: How I Got Here

I’m a successful writer. It’s the publishers failing me. That sounds like an ironic joke but consider: I’ve been a writer for 48 years, submitting (at first sporadically, I admit), for 40 years, and publishing for 24 years. My first … Continue reading

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