Tag: fiction

  • Epic Quests Require Fries: A Charro’s Story

    After our performance at the closing of the Cattle Call Rodeo in Brawley, I rolled up to In-N-Out thinking I’d grab a quick bite. The place looked packed to the gills. Maybe not the best decision I’ve made, but hope is a dangerous thing.  I was still in my green traje de charro—embroidered jacket, gold…

  • Somehow, I Published a Book (And Survived)

    Somehow, I Published a Book (And Survived)

    Ideas have always shown up unannounced, like they were crashing a party I didn’t even know I was hosting. Some linger politely, evolving over months or years, migrating between my head, notebooks, and random scraps of paper. Others disappear the moment I think I’ve got them figured out, leaving me staring at a blank page…

  • A Writer’s Manifesto

    (Or Am I Just Rambling?) I remember, when I was still a teacher, how I answered the question: What makes a good writer? I always said, “Just write every day. Practice it.” Now, with many years of surviving life on this rock, I see how naïve that answer was. And honestly, a bit lazy. Writing…

  • Tinkering

    Once upon a time, every kid was a tinkerer. We learned by unscrewing things, prying them open, poking around inside. Radios, bikes, door hinges, cassette decks — if it rattled, clicked, or hummed, we had to know why. There were no YouTube tutorials or step-by-step guides, just a screwdriver, a roll of tape, and an…

  • Between Covers, Beyond Pages — From Reader to Writer and Back

    Awaiting the publication of my first book has changed something I never expected: the way I hold a book in my hands. I’ve always loved books. As a kid, I devoured them. In college, I would lose hours wandering the library aisles, pulling random titles off the shelves and skimming their pages for knowledge. The…

  • Waking Up, (or Almost Sleeping)

    Ahhh, sweet slumber. The kind where your body finally stops twitching from yesterday’s chores and the blanket has molded perfectly to your shape. I’m out cold, dreaming of nothing, floating in pure bliss. Then it begins. A faint sound. Far away. Growing louder. Louder. Until it crashes into my skull like a marching band on…

  • Conversations With That Guy In The Mirror

    A funny reflection about my reflection. We all have that voice in our heads—the one we consult when making decisions, psyching ourselves up, or talking ourselves out of regrettable choices. Sometimes it’s calm, sometimes it’s nagging, and sometimes it’s downright mischievous. For me, that voice has a face. He’s there every morning—the guy in the…

  • But I Just Wanna Play Catch

    There was a time when the only thing that mattered was whether you could catch the ball. The sun burned hot on your back, the grass smelled like summer and sweat, and the popsicle you dropped three minutes ago was already a sticky puddle in the dirt. Your knees were scraped, your socks were wet,…

  • The Day Camp Diaries

    When you hear “summer camp,” you might picture kids whisked away in vans, lugging haphazardly packed duffel bags, shipped off to some far-flung campground for a summer of “character building” and kumbaya bonding. Well… yeah—if you’ve watched enough movies, that’s exactly what you’ve seen. The reality? Not all camps are like that. Some are closer…

  • Mischief Monkeys

    Every kid, no matter the generation, knows mischief. It’s written deep in our DNA—the most primal way we learn as humans. It’s how we explore, how we test boundaries. It’s life itself—the spark that makes each day worth living, memories in the making. Mischief isn’t just the big moments; it’s the stuff in between the…

  • Morning Ritual: Still Not Funny, Dad

    Mornings during the school year were something of a production for me. I wasn’t exactly a morning curmudgeon, but I wouldn’t have called myself a ray of sunshine either.  My brain tended to boot up about ten minutes before my alarm—though, truth be told, it was never really off. At night, it just gave me…

  • A Moment of Unconscious Consciousness

    There’s a magic moment—quiet, fleeting—that happens between the instant your eyes first flutter open and the moment your brain realizes you’re awake. Most of us miss it. It feels like dreaming, but softer. Slower. It’s that gentle drift from unconsciousness to consciousness… before your body reminds you of gravity, responsibilities, or just how good the…

  • An Educator’s Love Letter to Liquid Sanity

    Let’s get one thing straight: coffee isn’t a luxury for teachers. It’s a survival mechanism. A coping strategy. A legal form of self-medication brewed in Keurig pods and staff lounge folklore. Coffee is what separates us from the animals.Also from the students.And occasionally from making deeply inappropriate remarks during professional development. To the untrained eye,…

  • Tales from the Inside: The Usual Suspects (Lounge Cut)

    It was the Thursday before the first day of school, and the teacher’s lounge had that eerie calm-before-the-storm vibe. You know the one—burnt coffee brewing, the hum of a vending machine that hasn’t accepted paper money since the Bush administration, and the distant cry of a copier that’s jammed again because someone tried to run…

  • A quick Walmart run, a sweater vest, and three very stoned prophets.

    So this happened today….. Honest, it did. I only went to Walmart to pick up some meds and maybe a couple boxes of Oreos. Simple mission. In and out. You know the move: park near the pharmacy entrance, avoid eye contact with anyone dragging a screaming toddler or carrying a bulk box of Hot Pockets,…