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Showing posts from October, 2021

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Time flies

Time flies. Seasons overlap. Years vanish on the wind, like smoke from an untended fire. A year ago, as summer began, I started to write one last novel. The more things change...   henrymitchellbooks.com

Reads and rites...

She told me...

Breathless in Drovers Gap...

What I'm reading on my phone - The Arbornaut...

Not all roads...

Writing Wendl - attrition...

Incoming...

Contrary...

Solid green...

Serious...

Not all...

Houses...

While I wait...

Writing Wendl - She stirs...

Trifolium repens...

Historic District...

Critic...

Approach...

Too new for comfort...

Watching...

Writing Wendl - Halfway up...

Which is it?

Sight and sound...

Not...

Osettai...

Tops...

Can't say...

What I'm reading on my phone - Phantoms

Loafing...

Second act...

Maybe not...