The writersmonthly.com Library

Short Fiction | Essays and Assays | Novel Excerpts | Poetry | Non-Fiction | Interviews | Reviews | I Could Be Wrong, But… slants by David Boyne | Poet's Workshop, by Terrie Relf | The Coaching Corner, by Jessica Clark | An Agent's View, by Kris Wallace | Self-Publish…Or Don't, by David Boyne

Short Fiction

Einstein's Eyes
by David Boyne
Inside the jar, floating in clear, viscous liquid, was a pair of human eyes. "It's a whole visual cortex." Dixon whispered. "Whose eyes, Sheldon?" I asked. "Albert Einstein's."

Knife
by David Boyne
…So it’s 1974 and I 'm seventeen and I'm a caricature: the angry young white suburban male.…

Newton's Comeuppance
by David Boyne
…I'm a thief. Call me Robin, like that twelfth century thief with the bow and arrow and green tights. But I don't work a forest, as my worthy predecessor did. I work a beach…

The Immigrant
by David Boyne
…he scratched at the sparse orange whiskers on his chin and said, "He looks dead."

Just Good Neighbors
by Gran Soren
…When I got home I found the letter on the table in the front hall, the place I always checked for notes from my wife:Honey, I have left you. I was just not cut out for an off-the-rack lifestyle. It’s my fault, not yours, really. Sorry. My attorney will be in touch.

The Confession Booth
by David Boyne
…It was midnight. I stood in the plaza of the Seattle Art Museum and pulled my collar tight against the seeping rain. I stared across the street at the doors beneath the flashing marquee of the Pink Pussycat Theater.

Star 69
by David Boyne
…I was so nervous I started biting my nails, something I hadn't done since high school. I knew there was going to be violence. But I never thought someone would get killed.

The Veteran
by David Boyne
The bang of the gun was so loud I thought I had been shot. I could not move. I stood there, my ears ringing, until the smell of gunpowder tainted my breathing.

Survivor
by David Boyne
"Ma'am. You do understand that you've been in an accident?"
The woman was my daughter's age. I wondered what she had studied at University. I nodded. I said, "A plane crash."

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Essay & Assays

Is Conflict Necessary In Fiction
by Christopher Mahon
On Writing Your Novel
by Julene Snyder
Memoirs of a Step-Dad in Training,
Part One
by Jack Anthony
Memoirs of a Step-Dad in Training,
Part Two
by Jack Anthony
The Horsefly Watcher
by Emmitt Furner, II
Teryaki Girl
by Michael Kadel
Zine Fever
by David Boyne
Lying to Death
by Gran Soren
All the Children
by David Boyne

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Novels

Vito's Ark
by Edwin Decker
Vito didn’t believe much in God in his young days. He devoted himself toward becoming an outrageously successful businessman. Success, of course, meant wealth. And he was wealthy. Sanitation was his expertise.

Big Boy's Row
by Richard Thom
"We’re truly blessed to have Archbishop McElroy visit us today. It means a great deal to our community and to our home. We want him to feel most welcome. The sisters have instructed all of you on what to say and do. Be sure you are on your best behavior."

Mortals All
by Bruce Golden
I was just a writer of over-hyped, testosterone-driven space operas when she walked into my life. I should have known better. I should have paid attention to that tingling I always get along the nape of my neck when trouble's headed my way.

Land On Bended Knee,
by Siddharth Katragadda
…A country is not a country if it cannot stand up for what it rightly is, Gopal Mama often said. This country does not have balls, he would go on like a stuck record. It is like its women, beautiful but pinned down, downtrodden. She looks for notice in the eyes of her husband, the one who tastes her breasts, rapes her and asks her to go back to cooking dal fry for him, unseeing of her true beauty.

Adventures In A Parallax World
by Gran Soren
…I could feel my hands on my knees, but when I looked down, I saw only the black leather chair, and the faded orange and rose colored Persian carpet. What I did not see were brown suede shoes, grey slacks, blue wool blazer-- or the thin legs and round potbelly of my seventy-one year old body. I did not see me. I was invisible.

Escaping America
by Casey Fahy
…Saphire winked at Cody and stood by the limousine for a moment, her long coat open to the night air. Her hair was wrapped like a copper crown on her head. She was six feet tall, curved but hard, with Egyptian features, and lapis eyes. The night was muggy, though it was fall and the leaves had changed. She twisted a penlight, and walked up the hill, weaving through slate headstones.

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Poetry

7 Poems
by Megan Webster

Poems
by Edwin Decker

Write Dirty to Me
by Stacy Brown
5
by Terrie Relf
View From the 2nd Floor
by Kirby Wright
Five Poems
by Rayn Roberts
Poems
by Patty Mooney
Night Safaris
by Gary Shiebler
The Craving
by Jewel Forga
Paradise
by Jewel Forga
Poems
by Charlene Baldridge
Poems
by Chris Vannoy
Poems
by David Kopaska-Merkel
Poetry Without Pedigree
by David Boyne

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Non-Fiction

GuideDogs
by David Boyne
…"When I walked with a cane, it was like I wasn't even a person. Hispanic, white, it didn't matter: people wouldn't talk to me."

Poems That Tell Stories
by Siddharth Katragadda
Why write poetry in the story form? Because people need a story and characters to keep reading. It is the story that pulls in readers right in the first page and keeps them reading more and more.

Hale Kia
by Kirby Wright
…My haole mother was blessed with optimism. She believed in the endless possibilities of things and the idea you could achieve anything if you loved doing it. The cup was half full. Because she loved to sing and dance, she was convinced she would someday go to Broadway and land a role in a musical. This dream remained despite my father's chidings it would never happen. Her dream would never die because it had become a life preserver that buoyed up her spirits whenever it felt as though she was drowning in the responsibilities of marriage and motherhood. I was three when she took me out to our driveway on Oahu, pointed at the rising sun and said, "That's where I'm going."

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Interviews


Nicki Sucec
San Diego Sculptor Covers Heavy Metal to Opera

Edwin Decker
Poet, Writer, Performance Artist, Bartender, Nature Boy

Gerry Williams
Film Maker, Photographer, Writer— Martian?

Ken Atchity
Los Angeles Film Maker, Literary Manager, Writer

Greg Gerding
De-railed Prose Poet, Lyricist, Screen Writer
and One Hell of an Intriguing Guy

Mary Olkowski
San Diego children's book author and illustrator

David J. Sherman
Los Angeles mystery novelist

Justin "Proj" Rowley
San Diego painter

Rayn Roberts
San Diego Poet living in Korea

Casey Fahy
Southern California Escape Artist

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Reviews


Land Without Evil, by Matthew Pallamary
Reviewed by David Boyne

The Dark Side, by David J. Sherman
Reviewed by David Boyne
…The Dark Side is an entree prepared in the hard-boiled Los Angeles detective style…

HaikuHut.com
Reviewed by Terrie Leigh Relf

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I Could Be Wrong, But...
Publisher's Slants, by David Boyne

• Past, Present, Future
• Love Bites
• Live, And Let Live
• Shall We... Dance?
• Readin, Riting & Rithmatic
• Why Obituaries Read Like Novel Plots
• Consume This!
• Thanks for the Memory

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Poet's Workshop
by Terrie Leigh Relf


• Write A Sonnet
• List Poems
• Workshopping Your Poetry
• Revise & Publish
• How to Write a Pantoum
• Sci-Fi Poetry
• To Punctuate Or Not

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The Coaching Corner
by Jessica Clark

• On Being Read
• Am I A Writer?
• On Being A Great Writer Re-Writer
• Getting Started
• The Story In Your Life
• Character, And Charaters

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An Agent's View
by Kris Wallace

• Enthusiasm: Secret Ingedient
• New York: Writers' Promised Land?
• I Answered the Phone...And It Was My Calling
• Writers Write—And Confer

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Self-Publish…Or Don't


My Adventures In Self-Publishing
by Jerry McCarty
For The Money
by David Boyne
A Writer Is A Writer
by David Boyne

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