Author: Every Writer

Richard Edwards has a BFA in Creative Writing and Journalism from Bowling Green State University and an M.S. in Education from the University of Akron. Managing editor of Drunk Duck, poetry editor for Prairie Margins, reporter for Miscellany, Akron Journal, Lorain Journal, and The BG News. He has also worked as a professional writer and editor in the medical publishing industry for several years. For the last 15 years Richard has also taught literature and writing at the secondary and post-secondary levels. He works much of the time with at-risk students.

Life As A Tattoo by J White

Posted on April 23, 2012April 23, 2012 by Every Writer

I walk out of the paper factory all sweaty and pissed off. My tattoo-covered arms are dripping with dirty sweat. My long hair and beard are full of dust and bits of raw paper as tiny as gnats. It is always the same at the paper factory in the summer time. By day?s end I am sweaty and pissed.

Cowgirl Love By Gary V. Powell

Posted on April 17, 2012 by Every Writer

She was pretty as the Sierra Madres in winter, leaving her girlfriends behind to sip their beers. The boy she danced with couldn?t rope calves much less break broncos, while she could have ridden bulls into the ground. I sipped Bourbon and watched her rhinestones shimmer, her hips sharp enough to rip denim.

Marilyn Monroe Moment by Courtney Smart

Posted on April 4, 2012 by Every Writer

Marilyn Monroe Moment by Courtney Smart There is not a teenage girl more sheltered, na?ve, and always out of my

The Tile by Veronique Kootstra

Posted on April 2, 2012April 3, 2012 by Every Writer

?Waiting for change always seems to take longer than you would expect.?
Amy must have read this sentence thousands of times. If it was a saying by a famous writer or philosopher she might see the point, but they?re her mum?s own words. The yellow tile stands out against pale blue wall; the writing is done in black, calligraphic letters.

Bird Lesson by John Francis Steffen

Posted on March 29, 2012March 29, 2012 by Every Writer

Recently one of the cardinals in my back yard performed a unique variation on his usual song. I was fortunate enough to be outside at the time, tying basil plants for drying. As I stood listening to his melody I recollected an experience I had had many years ago while traveling south on the Oregon coast highway.