Game Changers

April 17, 2014 § 1 Comment

dvcoyote_2“Why did it take you so long to tell me you saw some of my cousins?” Coyote asked. “I’d like to hear about that!”

He was painting the dining room. I was a little surprised. When I left he said he was just going to paint the pantry so that had been fine with me. Now there were drop cloths everywhere.

“Well, yes, I did, as a matter of fact.” I said. “In Death Valley, between Mormon Point and Split Cinder Cone.” « Read the rest of this entry »

Complaints

March 16, 2014 § 3 Comments

“I took a break,” I said, by way of conversation.

Coyote was wearing his wire-rimmed glasses, which he always does when he is concentrating.

“I noticed,” Coyote replied, not looking up. “No judgment.”

“I had Stuff going on,” I said. I guess I was trying to get his attention.

“We all do,” Coyote shrugged. He reached into a drawer for a file folder.

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Coyote’s Advice

June 24, 2013 § 2 Comments

drink45-hurricane-and-barcardi-splashI hadn’t talked to Coyote in a while, not about the blog anyway. He still hung around, looking over my shoulder when I was writing in that annoying way he has and harrumphing occasionally. In a more successful ploy to get my attention, he made me a drink – passionfruit juice mixed with an aromatic and evocative rum he knew I would recognize.

“So what do you think I should do?” I asked. The heat of the day stirred memories. Upstate New York wasn’t Saigon but it was doing its best. « Read the rest of this entry »

Blood Feud(s)

August 2, 2012 § Leave a comment

“That was great!” I said, setting down my suitcase. I had been to my umpty-ninth high school reunion without having been to one in years.

“Yes?” Coyote smiled. He was working on a photograph album at the dining room table.

“It’s just so wonderful to have friends like that! We haven’t seen each other such a long time and we just picked right back up where we left off!”

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What Really Happened

June 21, 2012 § Leave a comment

This is so not a picture of Coyote, but it’s cool.
Coyote Reading a Candy Wrapper
North Central Washington Museum
Wenatchee, WA
1995, cast aluminum

“So how’s that novel coming?” Coyote inquired. Innocently. He was reading a newspaper, which I found quaint.

“Why does everyone have to ask me that?” I was counting stitches to figure out where I had dropped one.

“Oh, just curious, I guess.” He pushed his glasses back up a little way on his nose. If he had had a mob cap he would have borne a striking resemblance to the Wolf impersonating Grandmama. Or so it seemed to me in that moment.  « Read the rest of this entry »

Scary Stories

June 1, 2012 § 2 Comments

“I don’t know how Stephen King does it,” I said, looking up from my notebook.

“Does what?” Coyote asked. He was mixing a drink. I’m not sure what was in it but the bottle he was using had a faint green tinge. At least from where I was sitting.

“Keep writing all those scary stories that everybody loves so much,” I said, eyeing the bottle.

“Well, I didn’t think much of Cujo,” he said, looking through the liquor cabinet for something else.

“Oh?” I wondered why there was only one glass.

“Lacked subtlety,” he said, opening the fridge. “Do we have any limes?”  « Read the rest of this entry »

Adverbs on Trial

May 18, 2012 § 1 Comment

“I don’t understand the objection to adverbs.” I said, breaking the silence.

“What’s the problem?” Coyote looked up from his novel. Tony Hillerman, I noticed.

I myself was reading about a murder in Savannah, Georgia, and I was keeping track.

“Well, it just seems like some people have a prejudice against them and I am pretty sure it’s not justified.” I was afraid I was picking a fight but I didn’t care. I wanted to get this straightened out.

“Listen to this, for instance,” I continued before Coyote could get a word in. “It’s a sentence in this book I’m reading. ‘This was the hole allegedly made by Danny Hansford during his rampage through the house a month before he was killed.'” « Read the rest of this entry »

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