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Guest Post: Jeffree Howell

25 May

It’s that time again where I extend my hand out to a fellow writer and offer them control over the blog. Today, I leave the reigns in the very capable hands of my good friend Jeffree Howell. I’ve known Jeff for quite a while now; in fact, he and I went to high school together. I always knew he was a creative individual, but it wasn’t until we reaquainted ourselves that I began to understand the depth of his thoughts. He generally prefers a soft, yet brief style- allowing little deviation from the truth he dissects. His diction is congruent with a direct, straight-to-the-point format that is usually indicative of a naive voice. His advanced thoughts and concepts dispel that notion and illuminate the true nature of his words. They are elegant in their elementary simplicity and express a deeper meaning that is usually reserved until the final sentiments. He does not currently have a blog or other means to contact him- other than to search for him on Facebook. Without any further adieu, I present the work of Jeffree Howell

Gone Fishing

There she sits, still as an obelisk in Egypt. Calm as the dirt of Montana. Waiting for that
one nibble at her hook. The fish aren’t biting today. Something seems to have scared them off.
Perhaps it’s me. I’m not a usual sight in this park. I generally avoid nature if I can. Today is
different. Today, she asked me to come. To show me the wonders of fishing. To show me that
even though we are doing nothing, we are always doing something. For us, it is simply fishing.
Sitting here with our poles up watching the lure bob up and down. Yet, even though we’re
fishing, we really aren’t. We are really enjoying the other’s company. Reminds me of when we
met. I had been fishing in my own way. Using lines at pulling on any nibble I could find. She
hadn’t taken the bait. I had had to catch her in a net before she paid any attention to me. Since
then, she hasn’t left my side. This trip was her idea though and I went along with it. So, here I
sit, fishing like I used to and beginning to realize. I was fishing all those years looking for
something that wasn’t there. What I was always looking for was a girl who would teach me more
about myself than about feminine hygiene products. What I had been searching for wasn’t a fish.
And neither was she.

If you or someone you know would like to get some publicity by being a guest author, e-mail me with inquiries at


Guest Post: Peggy Brocke

4 May

Every now and again, I’d like to give other writers and authors the opportunity to voice themselves and their ideas about life, literature- what have you. I see my writing career like I see life, an interconnection of different sources and experiences. Any writer, thus, that I extend my hand in friendship becomes an ally of the craft. We become kin seeking the same goals. Ultimately, we all become better and thus accomplish the almost intangible goal of becoming more articulate and more proficient in the literary arts.

With this in mind, I would like to extend my warmest welcome to a close friend and collaborator, Peggy Brocke. Ms. Brocke is primarily a free form/ prose poet who tackles issues of race, feminism, life, and loss. Her style (like her personality) is quite blunt and honest. Yet, it has a certain elegance that flows with the quiet power of a wrecking ball. I hope you all enjoy her writing as much as I do and please, visit her blog at 

“In loving memory of Stephen Beaumont

“These are the times that try men’s souls”
Who would have thought that a pamphlet written to motivate Americans to rebel against their government would hold such a prophetic weight? Those in comparison to now were not the times that tried men’s souls. We live in a time period where everything we do is crucial, although our parental figures or the old ones of our times may disagree, our lives are more difficult than they could ever imagine. Criticisms, judgment, and ideas are spread rapidly with the click of a button, unstoppable.

“Sticks and stones my break your bones but words will never hurt me”
That was a lie too, but we all knew that already.
It used to be the spoken word but with the creation of social media it became the typed word. It’s face-book, it’s twitter, it’s blogs vlogs, and texting, and technology. The evil things we think materialize before our very eyes, on newsfeeds, and on little screens that people use to mask their insecurity. They are impossible to escape, and will forever pound in the recesses of our minds.
Life before the internet and telecommunications was a joke. But now life is real, too real. So real that death, is something we joke about, suicide is something we throw around in banter.
THESE are the times that try men’s souls, and the best part is, it can only get worse from here.”

-Peggy Brocke