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Happy new 26,000 year cycle, everyone!

And in case you haven’t noticed, the world didn’t come to an end yesterday! The Mayan calendar never said this would be the end of the world. It said this would be the end of one cycle and the beginning of another.

The solstice is my big holiday during this season, and this year it was an especially powerful one for me. I can’t remember the last time I moved into the new year feeling so enthusiastic.

I feel the new year’s promise pushing to be realized, in spite of the violence and madness around us, the avarice and aggression — the venal arrogance that seems rampant. I say there’s something else, something beautiful, on the move as well, and while these may be unstable times, they can also be creative times.

Ultimately, I believe we are responsible for our own behavior, and that …

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Found this stone art depiction of Kokopelli, and will add it to my list of post graphics. I love the power of it — the music, the joyful dancing, the unabashed creativity.

And a warm welcome to my new blog and website to you! Please take a look around, enjoy the free reads, and the updates that will come once or twice a week.

I’m just in transition headed back to Florida with a stop next week in Seattle for Story Masters, a writers’ workshop put on by Christopher Vogler, Jay Bell and Donald Maass. I haven’t heard any of them present in person before, so I’m really looking forward to it.

In 2006, I wrote this short short story as my entry in a contest called “A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words”. The story had to turn around this photo. It’s odd, I felt awkward writing to a visual prompt, but the story took no more than a couple of days to write. I still like it, so I’ve dusted it off for your reading entertainment.

 

Crossing the River

By spring the pain had dulled. It was no longer the unrelenting ripping sensation in Jake’s chest, as if he were a phone book being torn in half for a meaningless party stunt. Although he still was ambushed by grief occasionally, and wept helplessly then, he mostly now had calm. At first that calm had been the vague sweetness of Prozac, but Jake was done with that.

The counselors at the hospice had helped. They had gently prepared him last …

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A man’s character is his fate.

This is the epigraph in Traveling Light, and has become an essential part of the way I see and experience the world. Sometimes this quote is translated as, “A man’s character is his doom.” I believe that’s technically more accurate, but the word “doom” in English has implications that aren’t so inescapably negative in Greek.

I wrote this piece seven years ago, as a piece of blog content when my first novel came out. To my amazement, it was the most visited page for as long as I had it up. I’ve dusted it off, made a few tweaks and offer it now as my first article here on my re-vamped site. It feels good to do that. I hope you enjoy it! — LM

A Hero’s Journey

I was probably thirteen when I first read that some of the great Renaissance artists dissected cadavers to get the anatomy right in their figures. Forced to imagine someone so driven to depict the human form accurately that he would willingly break serious contemporary laws and risk disease to examine dead bodies, I was disgusted as only a pimply teenager uncomfortable with what was happening in his own body could be.  But over time, I have come …

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