Dirt

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Originally posted on Ordinary Handsome:

The dig

Is it possible to fall asleep while you’re digging a hole? I guess it is. I heard the sharp click of a Zippo lighter and I came back to the now.

Kincaid was leaning against a pine tree, firing up a smoke. The glow of the flame shone on his face and it was a wet mess. His hair was matted to his head like he’d just been caught in a heavy rain. I was about to call him out for being lazy, until I saw his eyes. They looked like melting wax.

He dug about a third of what I’d finished, and I noticed a lot of the dirt he pulled out had sifted back into the hole. Before he snapped the lighter shut, I saw his throat was caked with mud.

I don’t know if I can finish this, Henry, he said. Lord, the amount of dirt it…

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Yasmine of Gaza – Hope from a sieged land

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Originally posted on Jabal Italia:

yasmine2

A new art gallery came to town! Along with a new, thoughtful and inspiring exhibition.

We had the pleasure to visit it yesterday and we couldn’t be happier to write our first exposition review on Yasmine of Gaza. Have you ever heard about the Jasmine House – Art & Food? Probably not, as it has just opened last week – but trust us

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Slipping away

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Originally posted on Ordinary Handsome:

DSCN9383

It’s still dark, and there’s still a dead body in the back of the pickup. We have to do something before sunup, and time’s running out. Time is greasy and melting like candle wax. The lines on the road are skewed, faded and wildly uneven. The sky is a thunderous canopy, blackened and bruised and moving like smoke. The wind smells sour and wet, and the road looks hand-drawn. Tree branches are too close and too low to the truck, and they scrape against the sides, sounding like scratched tinfoil.

I don’t see anything clearly in the truck bed, just heaps of old branches and the shape of a man wrapped in a dirty robe, his face obscured by deep shadows.

I have someone coming to take a look at it, he said. I turn my head, but there’s no one with me; voices sliding through the night.

And then the dead…

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The shed

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Check out this excerpt from author Steven Baird…

Originally posted on Ordinary Handsome:

He took me to a shed on the back of his property. The ground was still hard from all the rainless days we endured and it sounded hollow under my boots. The grass was an unnatural shade of green for late October. The clippings near the shed door were uneven and frowsy, and it spoiled the illusion of perfection. Still, Kincaid probably spent more money on his lawn than I spent on groceries. I tried to shove my resentment aside, but the hard feelings wanted to bubble over.

I don’t know what I expected to see in the shed. A workbench, maybe, with all the tools lined up in alphabetical order; a coil of garden hose, a freshly hosed-off lawnmower. I knew there was something darker inside, so only part of me was surprised when I saw a dead man sprawled across the wood plank floor.

The man had been…

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Building a synopsis

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#OrdinaryHandsome #ComingSoon #excited

Originally posted on Ordinary Handsome:

One of my least favorite things about completing a project is writing the synopsis. I can tolerate the editing, the countless re-writes, the sacrificial offerings of sentences (or paragraphs, or even entire chapters) to the writing gods. But boiling all that hard work down to a single easy-to-digest cup of wholesome goodness? It’s hard work. When you’ve spent months or years on something, your mind has been focused on a landscape of ideas, character nuisances, tragic or funny dips in the road. Paring it down brings the mind into focus, in 300 words or less. Okay, what was this sucker really about, and why would anyone want to read it? Good question.

Man meets boy. Man kills boy. Boy comes back 57 years later and kills man. And stuff in between.

Of course I need to do better than that.

It really is just a matter of distilling all those words…

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Blog the first

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Please follow author Steven Baird and welcome him to this wonderful community…

Originally posted on Ordinary Handsome:

My first blog, my first Twitter account, my second or third Facebook account. It’s work. I admit it. I’m a man from an earlier era, a pre-facetwit time when telephones had dials and digital meant you just got a cool new wristwatch for your birthday and it glowed in the dark!

I just turned 55 yesterday and I don’t feel as old as, say, my grandparents were when they were 55. Or my parents. It’s a number. I get it. But still….

So I’m learning all this new social media stuff in earnest. Trying to figure out what goes where, what I need to cut-and-paste from one site to the other. Accidentally closing tabs I needed open.  I’m reasonably intelligent, but it gets overwhelming for a man of a certain stubbornness. It’s not that I’m resistant to change… it’s just that I wish it wouldn’t, at least not so fast.

I…

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Alternative cover

Roulette Revolver:

Really looking forward to the publication of this great novel.

Originally posted on Ordinary Handsome:

Copyright 2014 Steven Bairdordinary cover 2

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