Isabelle Drake

Over the summer I started an MFA in Fiction program. Needless to say my to-be-read and reference stack is bigger and more varied than ever. The Art of Fiction by John Gardner is right next to my getting more tattered copy of Different Loving by Gloria and William Brame. If you're interested in the MFA world, check out my new blog Adventures in MFA Land .

I should be working on my current work-in-progress, but I got stuck so I did what I usually do when my characters stand still, I started cleaning my office. Once I got done, I realized it looked pretty good. Why not take a couple pictures? (Yes, more task avoidance, I know.) I have a garden right outside my windows. Nothing is blooming right now, the hosta is getting ready to, but still the different colors of green are great. Yes, my desk has two computers. That way I can hop from one thing to another without all that distracting clicking around. That big picture on the wall is something I bought at a garage sale for about 2$. There are two people talking by the sea shore. I often wonder what they're saying.

Excerpt From: Play for Keeps “On your way somewhere?” Keera Koltai lifted her gaze from the nearly empty beer bottle wrapped in her fingers to connect with a pair of very liquid, very male eyes. Brown, with flecks of lighter tan about the same colour as the bare skin of his lean chest. What was it with the guys around these islands? Didn’t any of them wear shirts? At least, this one had a black tee tucked into the back pocket of his low hung jeans. He spoke again, his southern Florida accent hanging heavy in the damp August air. “Where’d you ride from?” “Up by Tampa.” Keera swallowed the last of her beer and rolled the empty bottle in her hands as she scanned the mostly empty roadside park. The only life enjoying the mangrove shaded crushed shell shoreline was a trio of stilts, wading along in the quiet tide. Over on the other side of the parking lot some parents dug through their van, sorting out gear while their kids jumped up, trying to touch the low needles of a slash pine. When s...