Author Archives: the.way.i.bee
Beauty is in the eye . . .
The New Year has arrived and finds me, like every new year before, reflecting on my life. Will I ever be successful? Might this be the year I find success? What is success anyway? Is it money? Is it accolades? … Continue reading
A very very very fine house . . .
I still can’t quite wrap my head around losing the shore house. Pulling up to it now, I don’t know why, but I’m afraid. Looking at it, knowing it may not belong to my family, it breaks my heart. It … Continue reading
Oh the water . . .
It takes a certain quality to live by the water. A certain respect. Or it should. The waters lure us near. We start off with a cautious fascination, sensing its immense power and wanting to jump in. We move closer … Continue reading
Somewhere over the rainbow
Pulling into the development, I could see no real change. I half expected to find that Hurricane Sandy’s toll wasn’t as bad as I had thought it would be. But as we drove deeper into the lagoon community, reality settled in. House after house … Continue reading
Finding the time . . .
The season is changing, back to school. The relaxed unstructured pace of summer is replaced with buzzing alarm clocks and rushed mornings. Until I adjust my gait over here to get in stride with fall’s rhythm, it is almost impossible to set … Continue reading
Inspiration move me brightly . . .
So I started out fairly strong and quickly seemed to stall. I need to freely write just to find a starting point again. So excuse me if this is a bit rough. I’m just going to keep typing until I start to develop some direction. … Continue reading
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In my write mind?
I wonder sometimes if I am in my right mind. Since deciding I want to be a writer, a published one, it is all I can think about. I found one of my threads from that tangled mess I wrote about … Continue reading
Coo Coo Cachoo Mrs. Butterworth
I love writing stories for children. They have no limits. They haven’t started to consider where their ceiling is in life; though, at any age, none of us should. Life usually hasn’t given them doubts in the basic good of all … Continue reading
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What to do . . . what to do
Eight hours a day, five days a week, I sell my time. I spend it doing work that holds no meaning to me. I push paper across my desk, knowing there’ll be more behind it. I spend invisible money (it … Continue reading
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Well . . . How did I get here?
I hit a point where I know I need to put up or shut up. Either stop saying and stay where I am or start doing and get to where I want to be. I have a tangled mass of ideas of … Continue reading
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the.way.i.bee 