The following post comes from Almost Iowa, a blog that offers clever, humorous, and thought-provoking short stories. Enjoy!

 


There was an old man who was so old that even the children who once considered him old had long since past from memory. And with every passing day, he grew older, not only in days, but in body and spirit as well. His skin continued to wither, his bones grew more brittle and his disposition […]

via The Old Man Who Death Ignored — Almost Iowa

Reblogged from Almost Iowa: The Old Man Who Death Ignored

Before taking requests from the audience, I closed Friday night’s Barnes & Noble reading with this paragraph:

A rush of words poured out of my heart and filled my head, and I knew I might never feel the same inspiration again in my entire life, but as a writer, I would always remember my first time, the first time the words flowed effortlessly onto a page, and how those words consumed me and time held no importance. I was in a world without minutes, and when the porch light went on, I brought my legs up to my chest and rested my journal on a knee. I couldn’t keep up with the words in my head, and the feeling inside my heart was invigorating. It was like a runner’s high, and I had reached the covetous plateau where my pen scrawled effortlessly across the blank lines of the page. And when I emptied the last words from my head, I heaved a sigh of satisfaction and closed the journal. (Nothing but Trouble after Midnight, 197)

It was a perfect ending, and I placed my book on the table, feeling like I had given closure to the evening. But that night–along with so many other aspects of my Tallahassee trip–was more about beginnings than endings.

Previously, I had taken a hiatus from book promotion as well as writing. Life–and not “words”–had consumed me, and months went by without visiting my “world without minutes.” This morning, I found my way there again, and without thinking, the words appeared magically on the page, filling huge gaps in the pivotal Chapter6. 

My inspiration has–and always will be–the students, and I know that now more than ever before. Without students and their words of praise and encouragement, I would have no desire to write. Every time I step into a classroom, I am reminded of why I became a writer and why I will continue to write. My thanks to the students at Leon High for inspiring me once again…

Writing: “A World without Minutes”