– Definition: adj.; chiefly British chaotic, disorganized, or mismanaged. – Used in a sentence: Our political and cultural landscapes have become shambolic as all get-out. – Why: Because we need a more polite (and adjectival) descriptor than… those in current…
Author: Neal Ross Attinson
Neal Ross Attinson is one of those writing-compulsives who feels naked without a keyboard, or at least a a pad and pencil. He is unafraid of adverbs, and lives with an animal companion and eclectic library in Sonoma, California.
The Spiritual Seeker’s Ponder
“DO YOU WANT ANSWERS? Or better, more interesting questions?”
Bonite a la Maison A.
ALBACORE GETS ALL THE PRESS when it comes to canned tuna, but skipjack is the preference ’round here due to its richer flavor. (Think of it as a “white meat / dark meat” thing.) And the preference for preparing an…
Prosatio Silban and the Consequential Light
THERE IS A REASON THAT the expression “take care with your wishes” is such a widespread cliché. It was a fine spring day, mixing an unbroken vault of blue, the alluring scent of sun-warmed fragrantia, and magah-birds crooning sprightly refrains…
Prosatio Silban and the Shattered Vessel
WE’VE ALL HEARD OF LOST arts. But what about lost artists? Prosatio Silban rolled out of his sleeping-berth and onto his ornate braided rug, studying the bedside mirror with worry etched on his face and defeat slumping his shoulders. I…
Birds of a Feather
THE SMALL BOY AT SONOMA Plaza came running up to the ducks. Great, I snarled to myself. Just what we need — another damn kid chasing the local waterfowl. Why can’t they leave the birds in peace? As I considered…
Teachable Moment
WHILE HITCHHIKING BETWEEN PLACERVILLE AND South Lake Tahoe in 1985, my ride — who had just unsuccessfully offered a friendly beer — taught me a valuable lesson on which I still reflect constantly: “When you’re on the road, and someone…
Prosatio Silban and the Paid Piper
WHEN THE CHICKENS COME HOME to roost, there is often confusion in the henhouse. What a strange dream, Prosatio Silban thought, sitting up in his sleeping-berth. So vivid. So compelling. Then he caught his breath and listened. Someone or something…
Prosatio Silban and the Midnight Summons
WE HAVE READ MANY TIMES of the Heirs Second, who rule the Uulian Commonwell by solemn duty and occasional whim. But who rules the Heirs Second? Late one night, Prosatio Silban was hard at work scrubbing the inside of a…
Prosatio Silban and the Jade Hawk
NO ONE HAS YET DEVISED a satisfactory agency for long-distance intimacy – but in every world, there’s at least one that tries. With a protracted high-pitched scream, an enormous emerald-hued bird circled Prosatio Silban’s galleywagon in descending spirals as the…
Prosatio Silban and the Sleepless Heat
“WHO IS WISE?” ASKS THE old sage-monk – and answers: “One who learns from everyone.” Prosatio Silban squirmed in his damp sleeping-berth for the hundredth time, then finally rolled himself out of it and onto his feet. ENOUGH, he thought,…
Prosatio Silban and the Hushed Revelation
SOME KNOWN THINGS SHOULDN’T BE. Prosatio Silban glanced up at epicurean Pormaris’ massive dockside clock-tower, an accurate timekeeper and source of immense civic pride. A quarter-hour past fourteen, he thought. My customer should be arriving soon – and aha! here…