an old writer and his words

  • DREAMS

    It starts quickly and unexpectedly. You do not know when it will start, why, or what it will bring. There are times when even after it is done, you cannot be certain what it was, what it did, what it meant. Often, though, you forget it before you have time to capture it. It is…

    Lou Faber

  • GREATLY EXAGERATED

    Many now say the age of great literaturehas died, the mortal woiund inflictedby the advent of the self-correctingIBM Selecric typewriter, when wordsbcame evanescent, as suddenly goneas when they spilled onto the page. Others, I count myself among them,believe the wound was not fatal,deep certainly, but yet there remainsa faint pulse, ressuscitation possiblewith the application of…

    Lou Faber

  • TODAY, ALAS

    Too much of what passes for literature in these days is really no more lasting than the evanescent pixels from which it is created. Books fade, pages crumble to dust but that requires the passage of time that our electronic world avoids or simply refuses to acknowledge, for history is something that lives in storage,…

    Lou Faber

  • CLOCKING IN

    Once upon a time is the oddest of expressions, for nothing is upon time, this one, or any other. And can we be certain what we think once was is committed to a memory, which is fallible in the best of times. or more precisely, in the best of time, for time cannot be plural,…

    Lou Faber