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Something To Say
What is there to say that hasn’t already been felt? I can create nothing new, only…
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Fiction: Human Obligations
In supplication the queen and king had knelt at the bottom of the steps, their foreheads…
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On Bookstores and Plastic Chairs
Although online shopping is amazing, the thrill of finding something unexpected in a bookstore is unmatched…
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The Written Advantage
Why even bother? That’s a question perhaps worth asking of the written word. We have movies,…
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The Faceless Artist
Who is the artist behind this piece? Is the individual male or female? What ethnicity? If…
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Short Story: The Starfish
Robert, Another day, another hundred errands. Could you please…
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Ego-Less Writing
A writer, above all other professionals, ought to be self-aware. Nothing is more detestable than writing…
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Short Story: It Comes in Threes
The world was churning, churning, churning. Not the real world, but the world in my mind.…
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‘Ilana Showshanah’ and the Value of Writing for Oneself
When I was twelve, I began to write my first book since my debut novel, Ilana…
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Fiction: Crumpets at Breakfast
Mr. John Crumpet and Mrs. Victoria Crumpet were in the middle of breakfast on a dreary…
Berkeley Fiction Review 