"In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks." –John Muir Hi friends, I’m writing to you from Grand Lake, Colorado, where I’m teaching/facilitating for the third time here at Shadowcliff Mountain Lodge with my friend, the amazing writer and teacher, Nancy Stohlman. I already feel the sixteen of us gathered here have bonded in this beautiful place.
I never cared for flash fiction, it doesn’t let me paint a large enough picture. Every individual reader will put a story into his own mental construct anyway, the writer’s part in that is already quite limited.
I wipe an errant tear from an ancient cheek. Never thought I’d be here. Not ever. So much behind, so little ahead and why does it have to hurt to breathe. I wonder if this work will have the effect I know it must.
It must. It will. I know it.
The pain in my chest and arm is still dull but it’s undeniable. I should be in that feared place where they lay sick people down, in my case for the final time. But I’ve got to finish writing this. It’s all that matters now. It’s all that’s left. Just, this.
This. Pick up the pen.
How many days have I been writing? The secrets of the universe, the meaning of existence, mankind’s place in it all, so very clear to me now. But not until six days ago.
If only I could focus on the page.
It’s snowing in the darkness outside but it will be light soon. I do think this is day six, I know I should eat something. Sat too long and can’t really feel my legs. Have to get back to it never mind that. The draft is from the window I hadn’t taken time to fix. Ainta gonna need this house no longer. The song is about a body.
Need it or not I won’t be in it, and soon.
Why won’t the damned phone stop ringing. Kid you never check on me any other time. Let me be.
I have to finish this piece, ouch, dammit, let me finish.
I've always wanted to attend a writer's retreat. Sounds magical and refreshing. I love the 300 word challenge idea about speaking the "Quiet part out loud". I've had something on my mind lately that I think would be perfect for this exercise--a heart break.
Gorgeous. I relate. Just did my 8,000-mile cross-country and back American road trip. Epic. Love Colorado and nature in general. Perfect place to write, contemplate, read and be in the present moment.
Beautiful! I love that memories hold all our senses
Beautiful pic and great flash.
Love that story, Kathy! And "white mittens on the fists of the pine trees" is such a lovely image. Have fun in Grand Lake!
Beautiful flash.
Lovely. Thanks.
I love that story so much, Kathy.
I cheated.
I have trouble turning my back on challenges.
I never cared for flash fiction, it doesn’t let me paint a large enough picture. Every individual reader will put a story into his own mental construct anyway, the writer’s part in that is already quite limited.
But I’d written https://1longtrain.substack.com/p/simons-gift
The protagonist is based on a real Dr. Simkovitch who has also passed. I stepped into his shoes to generate the fiction.
And it should have been better. Everything I’ve done should have, too. Working on it, and thank you. ☺️
What a land. Beautiful
The Final
I wipe an errant tear from an ancient cheek. Never thought I’d be here. Not ever. So much behind, so little ahead and why does it have to hurt to breathe. I wonder if this work will have the effect I know it must.
It must. It will. I know it.
The pain in my chest and arm is still dull but it’s undeniable. I should be in that feared place where they lay sick people down, in my case for the final time. But I’ve got to finish writing this. It’s all that matters now. It’s all that’s left. Just, this.
This. Pick up the pen.
How many days have I been writing? The secrets of the universe, the meaning of existence, mankind’s place in it all, so very clear to me now. But not until six days ago.
If only I could focus on the page.
It’s snowing in the darkness outside but it will be light soon. I do think this is day six, I know I should eat something. Sat too long and can’t really feel my legs. Have to get back to it never mind that. The draft is from the window I hadn’t taken time to fix. Ainta gonna need this house no longer. The song is about a body.
Need it or not I won’t be in it, and soon.
Why won’t the damned phone stop ringing. Kid you never check on me any other time. Let me be.
I have to finish this piece, ouch, dammit, let me finish.
Okay I’m doin’ it.
Getting close.
Fuckin’ amazing. That’s what it is.
Happy for you!
I've always wanted to attend a writer's retreat. Sounds magical and refreshing. I love the 300 word challenge idea about speaking the "Quiet part out loud". I've had something on my mind lately that I think would be perfect for this exercise--a heart break.
Gorgeous. I relate. Just did my 8,000-mile cross-country and back American road trip. Epic. Love Colorado and nature in general. Perfect place to write, contemplate, read and be in the present moment.
Michael Mohr
"Sincere American Writing"
https://michaelmohr.substack.com/
Shadowcliff Mountain Lodge looks amazing. They have cabins, too! I had to check their website.