
Arthur Miller died on 10 February 2005.
“The very impulse to write springs from an inner chaos crying for order–for meaning.”-Arthur Miller

Arthur Miller died on 10 February 2005.
“The very impulse to write springs from an inner chaos crying for order–for meaning.”-Arthur Miller

Colette by Jacques Humbert, circa 1896
Fossil Lake II: The Refossiling comes out later this month. In the meantime, you can check out a Q&A I did over on the anthology’s official blog. It was fun!
If you’d like to know some world-shattering tidbits about yours truly, such as my favourite aquatic-themed entertainment*, then head on over to Fossil Lake. While you’re there, be sure to read the entertaining profiles of my fellow Refossileers.
Refossileer Spotlight, Day 11-Alicia Austen
*Do you think it is…?
A. Cavorting at the beach

Gloria Swanson and Phyllis Haver
B. Whatever this is

Marine animals, fish and otters on the beach overlooking a bay with sailing boat and mountain in the distance by Jan van Kessel the Elder
C. Gaudy Esther Williams musicals

Esther Williams

Rex Beach
Rex Beach wrote many popular novels and plays, including the spectacularly successful The Spoilers (1906). This work alone has been adapted for film five times. He also won a silver medal at the 1904 Olympics. Event: Men’s (Team Competition) Water Polo. He committed suicide in 1949.

Gertrude Stein Quote

WINNER WINNER!
Please email me at: onetrackmuse@gmail.com
A Brief Reading Q&A with Diana Shafer of Terrific Friends
The Terrific Friends Edgar Allan Poe Print giveaway has ended! The winner will be announced later today!
I posted this piece of flash fiction over on Font and Frock last Saturday. I thought it would be fun to share here. Enjoy!
**
“As I was saying, Miss, a small bed fits in that nook, and the case over there holds at least fifty books.”
“I’m not sure I want to live here! The windows are grubby…”
“They’ve been cleaned twice!”
“There are so many pinholes in the walls.”
“You won’t notice them without your glasses on.”
“But I need my glasses to see.”
“Then don’t stand so close. Isn’t that better already?”
“This flat is awfully large.”
“It’s big enough for three!”
“I’m single.”
“You’ll have room to grow!”
“The price is nice.”
“It’s the best! There’s nothing cheaper, roomier, or more salubrious in this neighborhood.”
“The floor is covered with dust. Great mounds of dust!”
“Keep the windows closed.”
“I need sufficient light and air.”
“Buy a broom.”
“I’m just not sure if this is the place for me.”
“It won’t be on the market long, not with its literary connections.”
“Literary connections?”
“Don’t you know? This cheap, this roomy, this salubrious flat is where Tom Chambers wrote Good Night Bassington!”
“You don’t say?”
“Indeed, I do! As I recall, his typewriter sat on a desk right over…”
“Perhaps this is the place for me after all? Yes, I’m sure I’ll like it here!”
I’m staying with my mom for a couple of weeks. Her wee apartment is filled with gorgeous things, including this bookcase:

My mom’s bookcase