Every character needs an out. You have to give the character a way out of the story in case the story doesn’t work for the character anymore. You might rely on a single line, stated 300 pages back, and the reader says, Oh yeah, now I understand that line. You can’t just kill them all off.
Tonight I’m watching the Phils on tv. I’m drinking a beer. I have the patio door open, and I am (gasp) smoking a cigarette. Don’t worry, I don’t have any little lungs around, and I’m properly ventilating.
I feel like my ex husband should be sitting in the blue chair. I miss having someone to high five when they completely destroy an inning with three home runs in a row.
I don’t miss my ex husband.
I’m not sad that he’s not here.
I love this life I have crafted for myself, but sometimes I think there should be another voice in this house.
I’m already 2 poems behind on my goal of a poem a day, so let’s redefine the goal. Let’s reach for 30 poems within the month of April. Let’s call it necessary flexibility.
Cold legs cold feet cold
Wrapping up in flannel quilts
The winter won’t end
That house is haunted.
That house is (not) haunted I am haunted.
I am haunted everytime we drive by that house
And I have to hear the story.
The woman was burned alive
Who was a member of the volunteer fire company
And had no smoke detectors.
I am haunted by this story because
I feel this pit smaller than a cherry sitting in my gut
And it whispers to me You are missing a smoke detector and everyone will say
where am I missing a smoke detector?
But she was (This) or (That)
what if I don’t hear the sirens telling me to get the fuck out?
And how could she, knowing all that she knew about (This) or (That),
Get burned alive by it?