Abraham Lincoln entered Ford Theater on April 14th, 1865 and walked down the dress circle’s aisle to his doom.Historian Jim Bishop did a stellar job of detailing the events surrounding Lincoln’s assassination in his The Day Lincoln was Shot.
I created characters, added dialog and based my story on Mr. Bishop’s sequence of events. I hoped to pull readers into the history by putting them next to the characters, both historical and fictional. I was a great fan of Walter Chronkyte’s show “You are There” and tried for the immediacy that was one of its most powerful elements.
I’m most pleased to tell you that this story just won first place in the Saturday Writers “Everything Children Contest”. I hope this story, once published, will find a YA readership.
Working with Flash Fiction Magazine’s strict word limit was tough, but I’m happy with the result. Eric had this to say on the Flash Fiction Magazine site:
“This is a slick piece of writing. Sam Spade – a tough PI from past detective pulp reborn into futuristic skirmishes . Mickey Spillane would love it if he were alive. A sexy cover for a book with Angel splashed across the front with a smoking gun in her hand, a thug under her foot and foggy dew-drops in her hair.”
I’d buy it.Take a peek and see if you are too!
One of the joys of alpine climbing is to come upon penstemon blossoms in places where such delicate beauty is improbable – a thousand feet above a scree field in a vertical crack filled with ice for half the year. Life’s persistence is an affirmation inspiring both humility and joy. I thank editor Laura Stone for including my poem in The Tiny Seed Literary Journal. https://tinyseedjournal.com/2020/07/14/penstemon-honey/
Artist and musician Ginny Morgan and I became friends in 1965. We’re still friends. Covid denies her music right now, so she’s turned again to art. She recently paired a very old poem of mine with a wonderful new painting of hers. I hope it will lift your spirits as it has mine!
“In 1965, I received this poem from Bob Walton. I’ve kept a copy ever since and each time I paint a wave, the beautiful and moving words come back to me. Here is the poem and a recent wave painting from Big Beach.”
By Robert Walton
I stood naked, afraid
On quivering, wind-slivered sand.
Silence was my heart,
As from far,
Far in the green, deep midnight
Of the sea-
Came hands of dark jade –
Risen from blackness,
Reached up with fingers of mist
To grasp gold-frosted air,
Great straining wrists of emerald glass
Shattered into mocking fragments,
Gushed out death in white, fatherless foam,
Ended life that never lived.
The crusher of all sounds
Was its own knell.
Those proud, dying waves beckoned.
I went to them –
White, freckled water’s
Thousand icy needles
Pricking my nakedness.
A sun-gloved hand
Seized my body,
Plunged me into its surge,
Its caress –
As when lovers have breathed the sweetness
Of each other’s love.
Then a kiss—
The soft clinging of twilight to darkness;
The softer rustle of foam
Ending our embrace—
Aspens by Marlo Saucedo
Artist Marlo Saucedo completed a wonderful painting inspired by and paired with “Dawn Snow”, one of my Yosemite poems. I’m most pleased to share her accomplishment with you! It will be exhibited in Houston, Texas next spring, precise dates to be determined. I hope we can collaborate again soon. Here’s a link to her artist’s site:
Saturday Writers awarded first place to my “Duck Plucking Time”, a story based on incidents in the Jim Crow South. I thought I’d share it with you all.
My short story Duck Plucking Time was awarded first place in the Saturday Writers March contest. I’m most honored and also pleased that it received a nice writeup in their current newsletter. Look in the “Decades Ago” article if you wish to read what they had to say. Here’s the link: