Thursday, December 27, 2012

Ready For Takeoff

"Clean and smooth like a tar runway, his forehead sloped sharply down and out." (Going After Cacciato by Tim O'Brien)

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Crying in a Winter Wonderland

The weeping came in gasps, as snow breaks from cliffs. (Going After Cacciato by Tim O'Brien)

Monday, November 05, 2012

Record Store Blues

The violence of Portland licked right up to the edge of the store and left a spew like that yellow foam on city beaches where old rubber dries out with jellyfish and whiskey bottles and the dead squid. (The Executioner's Song by Norman Mailer)

Wednesday, October 31, 2012

A Rough First Impression, Norman

There were also the prisoners. Some looked like the downtrodden, to say the least. They were simpleminded, or misshapen in body or posture, furtive, or stolid, or cowed, or stupid. They were men who looked like they had grown up in barnyards and had the logic of louts. (The Executioner's Song by Norman Mailer)

Dead Serious

"Serious as a body bag." --James Patterson, NYPD Red

Tuesday, October 09, 2012

Magic Time

Gary and this fellow Val kept looking at car keys like old magicians studying old dried herbs, weird! (The Executioner's Song by Norman Mailer)

Tuesday, October 02, 2012

Utah Colors

In the mountains, the snow was iron gray and purple in the hollows, and glowed like gold on every slope that faced the sun. (The Executioner's Song by Norman Mailer)

Monday, October 01, 2012

Prison Cliff

Being here is like walking up to the edge and looking over 24 hours a day for more days then you care to recall (Gary Gilmore on prison life, from The Executioner's Song by Norman Mailer).

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Twofer

Bailey didn't look up from his reading so she wheeled around then and faced the children's mother, a young woman in slacks, whose face was as broad and innocent as a cabbage and was tied around with a green head-kerchief that had two points on the top like a rabbit's ears. (A Good Man Is Hard To Find by Flannery O'Connor)

Thursday, August 02, 2012

Shackled and Drunk

The only sound in the messhall was Harrogate struggling to free himself from the table. Wilson was standing over him like a faith healer over a paraplegic. (Suttree by Cormac McCarthy)

Monday, July 30, 2012

Roofing

Slusser turned toward the guards in a half crouch and they fell upon him with slapsticks flailing...The slapsticks were going whop whop whop, Slusser on the floor with just the pick sticking out, the guards hammering away from kneeling positions like carpenters on a roof. (Suttree by Cormac McCarthy)

I Thought We Grow To Be Old Farts In Phoenix

But I've been here since the beginning like a prefix (Thug Love Story 2012 by Action Bronson)

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

City Moon

Above the heat and the improbable skyline of the city a brass moon has risen and the clouds run before it like watered ink. (Suttree by Cormac McCarthy)

Friday, July 13, 2012

Jumpin' Bean

"Well, Pa seen him, an' Pa, he figgers he's the bes' Jesus-jumper in these parts. So Pa picks out a feeny bush 'bout twicet as big as Uncle John's feeny bush, and Pa lets out a squawk like a sow litterin' broken bottles, an' he takes a run at that feeny bush an' clears her an' bust his right leg." (Character speaking: Casy, John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath)

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Lee the Wiser

"All right then--I'm going to try to pull out your thoughts like egg noodles and let them dry in the sun." (John Steinbeck from East of Eden)

All Shook Up

The fact of his eventual death shook him like a terrier shaking a rat. He could only squeal in pain. (Matterhorn by Karl Marlantes.) 

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Picture Perfect

Her blond hair framed her face like crabgrass does flagstone. (The Bayou Trilogy by Daniel Woodrell.) 

Monday, June 25, 2012

The Big Gulp

The back of his head and his sternum ached, the wolfed-down Egg McMuffin shifted at the bottom of his stomach like a shipwreck on the ocean floor. (The Inquisitor by Mark Allen Smith.)  

Sunday, June 24, 2012

I Do It For The Glory

Sometimes a kind of glory lights up the mind of a man. It happens to nearly everyone. You can feel it growing or preparing like a fuse burning towards dynamite. (John Steinbeck from East of Eden)

Saturday, June 23, 2012

Slipping Away

And he lay very quietly and tried to hold onto himself that he felt slipping away from himself as you feel snow starting to slip sometimes on a mountain slope . . . (Ernest Hemingway in For Whom the Bell Tolls)