If you like to read, and enjoy quirky, welcome. There are about 30 random things here for you. After you read a short story you may even find some personal comments/insights! The main purpose of creating this blog is for writers. I see so much written about writer's block, and honestly, I don't have it. Occasionally, I write short stories, longer stories, books, plays, one act plays, monologues, and sometimes I even think one is good enough to submit somewhere. Of course, when you submit a story to a magazine that receives 200 stories a month and publishes five, you'd better enjoy the process of writing. I'm not suggesting that I'm a good writer, merely that I can sit down and just start writing.

It is important to write, to constantly be working on your art. If you are constantly plagued by writer's block, perhaps you are being too selective in what you write about. With that in mind, I wanted to share with you some examples of my writing, from someone who can write all the time. Occasionally the topics are a bit strange, but I don't let that slow me down, I love to write and get to a finished product. Hopefully, by looking at some examples, you will say to yourself that phrase that all artists who visit MOMA in NYC say: "Well, I can do this!" That would be good, because you can! One of my posts is about a talking tomato. (You have to be able to do better than that!)

In part I'm trying to get some of my stuff in one place, so keep in mind I never claimed it was going to be an incredible read. You can decide that. I will tell you that occasionally I have a story in me that seems to fit the goal of a publication, and I try to write specifically with that goal in mind. Lately I've been considering publications that publish nonfiction memoirs, so some of the entries you'll find here will have that flavor. Perhaps this is a way to get past writer's block - find a publication looking for something that you'd like to write. It seems like memoir-based publications may be a good place to start, because we're all experts in our own families. I'm using a blog here to share some of the things I've written; the blog format is not ideal, so you need to poke around a little at old posts, to see if you can find a story or something else that may interest you.

Two last items. None of these are finished products. I usually get to a point where I have something written, and then stop. If it is something I may decide to submit for some reason, I'll finish formatting, following the specific rules of the magazine or organization (the rules are alwaysdifferent). If you do see something in here that you may be interested in using, don't hesitate to contact me.

So welcome to my blog. Welcome to my writing. Write, people, write! It feels good.

Please also consider getting a copy of my first book, Saturday Night at Sarah Joy's. All Royalties go to the Hurricane Sandy New Jersey Relief Fund. Please check out the book's blog at:

Thank you!

© 2012 John Allison

Thursday, September 27, 2012


The Dark Knight, his helmet lying on the ground, scowled at The Wizard.  The Knight looked at The Wizard's outfit, and couldn't help but think it looked gay, even though he knew the thought was not one he should be having.  The Wizard reached his arm out just in time to catch one of two swords that fell from the sky.  The Dark Knight quickly picked up the other sword, when it hit the ground.  As he reached for his sword, he felt The Wizard's sharp sword cut through his bicep ("cut through like butter", whether butter was available or not).  Both men held up their swords.  The tips touched.  They tried to look into each other's eyes, a key move made impossible by The Wizard's shades.  As their swords touched, an epic battle of swordsmanship began.  Audio records reveal details of the battle:

Clang, clang, clang, clag, clang, ouch.  The Wizard's sword cut through the hot August Knight (and night) like a sword, or knife. Clang, clang, clang, clang, ouch, clang, clang, ouch, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang. Pant, pant, pant.  Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, ouch.  Clang, clang, clang, clang, clang, clang.  As the duel continued, the sounds of pain grew.  Clang, clang, clang, ouch, clang, ouch, ouch. Clang, clang, clang, clang, ouch, clang, clang, ouch, ouch.  Clang, clang, clang, clang, clangedy clang.  Ouch, OUCH!

The Wizard hit the floor first, The Dark (K)night looked over him with The Wizard's sword firmly embedded in his sword hole.

Dead.  He had killed him.  The town cheered.  He didn't consider that the townsfolk were cheering because both were goners.

It was just another day in the future, in a time when knights and wizards once again roam the lands, and die on them too.

© 2012 John Allison

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