Before we leave the hotel, Vicky and I sit down with three pieces of Wanda’s writing that her ex-husband, Brian, generously gave permission to share with everyone. The letter was one. The other two were older essays of hers that Brian thought would possibly shed some light on Wand… Read full post »

Thankfully it's not a football weekend, so we're able to park a convenient three blocks or so from our destination. It's a beautiful evening and we wander down the street, pointing at windows and wondering how long the shops and bars we knew have been gone, or excited when we actually… Read full post »

Each with a Bullet bourbon and water (served in a deluxe styrofoam cup) in our hands, Vicky and I kick back on the tiny balcony outside our room. Soon a station wagon pulls in below. Surprise! It's Taryn and her husband Donny. And Lola, their adorable daughter. And their dog, whose… Read full post »

Vicky and I pull into the Travelodge lot at sunset, grateful to be off the road from Milwaukee. The line is long at the counter, the harried desk clerk - and lone staff member on site - trying to find missing reservations and take care of myriad guest issues. 

 

A… Read full post »

For the few of you left following me (I attribute this entirely to my infrequent but always bleak entries), I'll preface this post with a sort of spoiler: the story starts with the woman already dead. What follows, then, is the story of how her last act just may have saved… Read full post »

Today is Saturday, the day before Mother’s Day. I spent the morning catching up on some work, making the usual list of weekend chores and errands and assigning everyone to their tasks. I paid a couple of bills online, called my son’s grandmother who hasn’t been feeling well… Read full post »

I always picture my alternate self this way: I am an old man living alone in the middle of nowhere. I've managed to carve out an existence for myself, cut off almost completely from a world that no longer makes sense, where the balance, rules and fair play I was raised… Read full post »

Lately I’ve been interviewed several times about the kind of workplace we’re running  at ThirdCoast Digest. For those unfamiliar with us, I think there's been a general interest in how we've managed to recreate ourselves from a print magazine to a bustling online digest in l… Read full post »

Today was gray but warm; a last, soft kiss before the slap of another Midwest winter. It was my turn to drive the kids to school this morning and two of them are still in elementary. It starts 25 minutes later than middle school, so I parked at the curb with… Read full post »

Being a creative person who loves a like soul has its challenges. I’ve made a consistent habit of loving creative men, with mixed results. This time I think I pretty well have it right, but every once in awhile, that old creative jealousy rears its ugly head.… Read full post »

This was written in May of this year on a trip home to Iowa to take care of my mom after one of her many hospital stays. I am working on something new and hope to post it soon. Thanks to everyone for indulging my therapy.

 I wake up… Read full post »

“Growing up” is too often a trick play, a series of potentially debilitating compromises that stifle the soul's voice. Maturity provides the ability to forge a place in the material world, but at the peril of the spiritual compass all children are born with.

Like a lot of "high-func
…

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My mother recently died from smoking cigarettes. Literally, in fact, but more on that a little further down.

In broader terms, she was ill for many years, but it was definitely a cigarette that took her life in the end.

Judith Anne Ogden grew up when smoking… Read full post »