On a warm South Texas Autumn morning, five dozen friends and family gathered in the heat to pay true homage to the beloved Mr. Goodman. Read on, Reader!
An essay on eyes that change color, the impoverished fiction of the self, genetic anomalies, and three of the seven seas. Read on, Reader!
What questions do you ask yourself when you are looking for a place to live? I only have two, myself. Read on, Reader!
I am learning, finally, that time is not flexible, but it is fluid. Do you know what I mean? Read on, Reader!
“Good lord, are you limping?”
“IT WAS A GREAT SHOW.”
“I can’t talk to you.”
“THANK YOU. YOU LOOK GREAT, TOO.”
Sometimes I get a bug in my britches over a copyediting error, but I try to keep my thoughts to myself. Well, established dictionary publisher Merriam-Webster pulled a doozy of an error two weeks ago, and I just about bugged allllll the way out. (I know— I know.) Read on, Reader!
Starting today, I will begin my annual reading of Frank Herbert’s Dune. It’s a celebrated event amongst friends and family. In fact, last year we did a Dune Read-a-Thon. Wanna do it again? Read on, Reader!
What is it that makes a dream, a dream, and a nightmare, a nightmare? Is it anxiety that divides the two? A sense of helplessness? As an aficionada of those nighttime cinematic moments, I have some ideas and maybe some answers. Come along with me, fellow dreamer, as I buy a rocket launcher to kill a dragon, won’t you?
Read on, Reader!
I broke Bluebird Blvd. again and nearly lost my mind. Does my hair look okay? Well, y’all, I broke Bluebird Blvd. for the 8th time in 7 days. I’ve never heard so many technicians say: “I’ve never seen that happen before!”— without a stitch of irony and a little bit of fear. Not only did I break Bluebird Blvd.— yes, again—but I broke every version of Bluebird Blvd. this time, which resulted in two separate technicians having to reinstall the framework for this site from scratch at midnight and again at two in the morning, respectively. It’s better now. But, as I said, almost everything was gone this time.Anything you and I added to the new site is essentially a memory. Your new comments, my new posts— everything.* At three, four, five this morning, I’m sitting here gloss-eyed, trying to rebuild Bluebird Blvd.’s whole system from scratch— yes, again— the upside being that I now know how to break my blog, which means, I hope, that soon I will also know how to fix it. We’ll be back on track in no time at all, right? Yes! Again! Here’s some good news— I’ve got something fun to post on Wednesday morning that I’ve been working on since last week. *Here’s another bit of good news— I was able to find yesterday’s Bluebird Blvd. Five-Minute Dance Party on the mobile version of the site today, just before the site realized that it shouldn’t exist. Woo! And here’s to hoping your Tuesday the Fourteenth is the exact opposite of my Monday the Thirteenth! Best wishes— Courtenay Bluebird.
On writing well, the publishing world, and more. Plus, a free manuscript consult from me IF YOU TRY the SEVEN DAY WRITING DRAFT CHALLENGE! (Read this guidelines at the end of this story carefully— this offer is open to new work only. All writing forms are accepted except student papers. To receive your free manuscript consult, you must email me by MIDNIGHT on Monday for the Northern Hemisphere.) (For the Southern Hemisphere, read as Tuesday, midnight, okay?) Read on, Reader!
*Whispering* Does anyone want to talk about art and money? One more question: Is anyone interested in reading my *full* writer’s bio? Read on, Reader!
Is art competitive? Is blogging competitive? Does competition make for good art? Good blogging? I have no easy answers— but I’d love to hear your thoughts today. Read on, Reader!
When I can’t sleep, I read Antonia Fraser’s histories and biographies about royalty. Let me explain why. Read on, Reader!
MY FRESHMAN YEAR of college I lived in an apartment near my favorite coffeehouse. It was not my first time to live in a transitory neighborhood. But it was my first experience with a wheelchair flasher and a SWAT team. Read on, Reader!
It’s calving season again in South Texas, so my mind has turned to the usual things: spring apples, new life, and the flourishing world of the subconscious self despite the tidal pull of a conscious mind. You know— the lighthearted stuff. <3 Read on, Reader!
Lately, the minimalist aesthetic has started to crop up in certain circles. Having lived through the 1990s version of that old buzz saw of a style buzzword, I have this to say about that. Read on, Reader!
Why do we take self-portraits with our cameras? Why do I? Why do you? <3 Read on, Reader!
Today’s story word is “choice.” Read on, Reader!
Today’s story word is “adventurer.” Read on, Reader!
Today’s story word is “perspective.” Read on, Reader!
Today’s story word is “directions.” Read on, Reader!
Oh, there’s more. I’ve taken a picture to spur on your stories today. Ready? Here we go! Read on, Reader!
When I write, I listen to music. Or, more correctly, when I listen to music, I write.
SCROLL DOWN for THIS WEEK’S FRESH STORIES! Or— Read on, Reader!
You think you can remember pain, but you cannot. What you remember is the idea of pain. Read on, Reader!
I’ve been going to thrift stores and junk shops for so long that I don’t know that I can even separate desire from habit. Read on, Reader!
Words have purpose. Words are tools. And words are weapons. Read on, Reader!
It’s loud now. It’s quiet now. It’s cold now. It’s hot now. And the now of five minutes ago is still now and will be now tomorrow. Read on, Reader!
I’ve spent enough years in and out of airports to consider the charming duplicity of their nature. An airport is, above all things, a building where people arrive and leave. Read on, Reader!
It’s late at night again, and writing isn’t going well. I stare at the page and the page stares back at me. Read on, Reader!
Harsh, yes… but the question is, have you picked your prince? Because that is what you do, you choose him, and you know what he is. And then, when you have chosen, you say to him—yes, that is possible, yes that can be done. Wolf Hall, Hilary Mantel Read on, Reader!