Dancing Priest

Author and Novelist Glynn Young

Blog

The Ring

By Leave a Comment

“How do I say I love you,” Michael said, “that I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you in Fitzhugh’s class? That I want to be at your side for always. I want you painting in that artist space in the loft and then coming into my arms and making love with me? I suppose I just said it, didn’t I?”

Sarah nodded.

“So, Sarah Hughes,” he said, “if you’ll have me, I’m asking you to marry me, to join me in whatever God has in store for us.” He placed the ring box in front of her.

Photograph by Esther Tuttle via Unsplash. Used with permission.

An Incredible Review of “Dancing Prophet”

By Leave a Comment

Dancing Prophet

Writing a novel is a hard, lonely work. You often struggle through a story, writing and rewriting and editing and deleting whole sections because, well, they’re just bad and aren’t going the way they need to go. And when you finish writing a novel, if there ever be such a thing, you have all the worry and anxiety and disappointment of how people will respond. 

And then you read a review, like “A Prophet Raised Up for Such a Time as This” by Luke Herron Davis.  And you tell yourself this is why you write. 

Poetry at Work, Chapter 5: Poetry of the Boss

By Leave a Comment

Poetry at Work

More than 40 years, I was handed my college diploma and, two days later, showed up for work at my first official job. I didn’t realize it until much later, but I walked into the doors of my employer that day carrying an assumption. I believed that people in positions of authority – bosses – always knew what they were doing. Why else would they be bosses?

Slightly more than a decade later, my assumption continuing to take body blow after body blow, I was presented incontrovertible evidence that my assumption had been flat-out wrong.

A group of us were sitting in a conference room, waiting for the news to go public that one of the company’s top products had a problem. The first indication would be the stock market. We all knew the news was imminent, and we had prepared for it as if a tsunami was about to strike, which, metaphorically, turned out to be true. The call came, confirming that the news was public, and for a very brief moment we experienced a silence.

To continue reading, please see my post today at Literary Life.

My Interview with Megan Willome on “Dancing Prophet”

By Leave a Comment

Dancing Prophet

Where does a story come from?

The idea for my novel Dancing Prophetcame from the my regular route for riding my bike, and the nondescript apartment complex I passed. I recently talked with writer and author Megan Willome about where the story came from, the major issue that affected it, and how it began to seem that my fictional story was writing the news. She captured exactly what I was trying to do in telling the story.

You can read the interview here. 

“I was afraid, Dad”

By Leave a Comment

“I was afraid, Dad,” Jason said, “if I said what had happened, then you or no one else would have wanted to adopt me.”

“My son,” Michael said, “while it may have shocked us to know, I don’t think it would have changed our minds.”

“I think I know that now, Dad,” Jason said, “but I was afraid you’d make me leave.” He paused. “Sometimes I feel I don’t deserve you and Mom.”

Photograph by Justin Chrn via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Poetry at Work, Chapter 3: The Poetry of the Workspace

By Leave a Comment

Poetry at Work Poetry of the Workspace

My first workspace after college graduation was a newspaper copydesk.

I’d been hired as a copy editor at the Beaumont, Texas, Enterprise. The title was grander than the reality of the entry-level job; I was one of four copy editors, and my workspace was a desk pushed against seven other desks to form a squat “H.” We were collaborative and team-based about three decades before it became corporate cool. 

It was a perfectly comfortable space for me. My last semester before graduation, I had worked in exactly the same kind of space for the college newspaper. The space in college and the space at Enterpriserequired learned deafness; you learned to blot out a lot of sounds – reporters talking with editors; wire service machines; the whirr of pre-fax telephone transmissions; people from page paste-up coming to an editor to trim a story; the sports department on the other side of a wall that was not floor-to-ceiling; and the nearby receptionist who enthusiastically (loudly) greeted visitors, told jokes, and handled incoming telephone calls.

To continue reading, please see my post today at Literary Life.