Author Archives: Rusty

#MyWritingProcess

#My Writ­ing Process Blog Tour I’ve been tagged by the fan­tas­tic writer Tamara Linse to talk about #MyWrit­ing­Process, such as it is. I hope these answers will enter­tain or reveal, depend­ing on what you think of my writ­ing. What am I … Con­tinue read­ing

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#MyWritingProcess Blog Tour: The Writing Process–Tamara Linse

I'm par­tic­i­pat­ing in a blog tour with sev­eral great writ­ers, focus­ing on #MyWrit­ing­Process. Tamara Linse tagged me for this, and I usu­ally can't turn down FCAC vet­er­ans, so here goes. Check out Tamara's answers and look for mine next week. Tamara … Con­tinue read­ing

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Poems by Dennis Mahagin

Cam­bridge Bone Then a dream of Aerosmith’s Joe Perry, how he fixed me with some low down vacant stare, on the banks of the Charles there, how he loaned me his snow-white muf­fler in Boston, not Austin —about mid Decem­ber, uncle … Con­tinue read­ing

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Chicken Wire Children, by Mikael Covey

Grandma Bea’s son was killed in the war. Lots of peo­ple were. In Ham­burg Ger­many there’s a pil­lar in the mid­dle of the river, it says “50,000 sons of the city died for you.” It says that in Ger­man. In … Con­tinue read­ing

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Vietnam. Fucking Vietnam, fiction by William Trent Pancoast

The dark­ness started on my lunch break at the fender fac­tory. I went out by myself that day, late in Feb­ru­ary with snow on the ground, yet with full sun­shine, the sort of day that promises some­thing but you know … Con­tinue read­ing

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Three Poems by Teisha Twomey

Mem­ory of a Pool Shark You told me I was a good shot, the same way you praised me when I knocked that eight ball into the cor­ner pocket before you could. I had to call them out loud, when the game … Con­tinue read­ing

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Traveling Highway Forty, by Amy Wilson

Pink single-wide plopped in a pas­ture that houses my favorite bill­board, “Cur­tis Watson’s Cat­fish Restau­rant: Free Corn­bread Bas­ket.” I used to drink whiskey every time I ate cat­fish Vern shares. Vern, Lucille last table Delta Café. Hop in Vern says, jumper … Con­tinue read­ing

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Comings and Goings, poem by Pamela Johnson Parker

COMINGS AND GOINGS, OR, DORIS HOLBROOK HEADS AGAIN FOR HOME (after James Dickey’s “Cher­ry­log Road”) I. Jimmy Off High­way 106 At Cher­ry­log I go at noon to meet This boy that dri­ves His daddy’s beat-up Indian, a Chief, A hand-me-down like most … Con­tinue read­ing

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A Hard Thing, But True, fiction by Amanda Bales

Bras cov­ered the back of the car. They draped over the seats and wrapped over the seat belts and hung from the door han­dles and car­peted the floor, as if a band of horny teenagers had taken the Buick for … Con­tinue read­ing

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Five Poems by Christopher Prewitt

A Farmer’s Son   I am a farmer’s son Every­one thinks My heart’s in reces­sion Because most things I eat I first have to raise But it is not Fun even to shoe a horse I have thoughts Despite the ben­e­fits That a nail … Con­tinue read­ing

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