Spotlight On Writers
Craig E Harms
- Where, do you hail from?
- What is the greatest thing about the place you call home?
There’s no feasible way I could have ever planned this, not in a trillion eons—wasn’t even on my radar—but in 1989, I left Hollywood for Illinois, on the banks of the Mississippi River, got married, had a ready-made stepson. The area is majestic and historic, but is little recognized:
Hannibal, Mo, and the vibes of a young Sam Clemens, is an hour south, downriver; Poet Carl Sandburg’s hometown, is an hour east. It’s one of the western districts where a young Lincoln practiced law. (Our county had one legal hanging in its history, Abe was the poor chap’s attorney.) Joseph Smith set up his Mormon community in the next town over. Black Hawk thrived here. I feel the same creative and intellectual pull they must have absorbed here. X marks the spot—it’s my creative center. It’s where I was meant to be.
- What turns you on creatively?
The joy and fun and freedom of finally having time to write what I’ve always wanted to write before fifty years of life intruded. People who read my stories turn me on (platonically)—that’s always a thrill to me! When ideas flow like a golden river from the source to the screen—it’s magical.
- What is your favorite word, and can you use it in a poetic sentence?
Ubiquitous. Just an archaic word that rolls out funny.
“Woe and alas!—the word ubiquitous isn’t any more!”
- What is your pet peeve?
I was blessed with a life-time full of them. Gold mines for writers, don’t you think?
- What defines Craig E Harms?
I would say I’m tenacious—life threw me more corkscrews after I became a bona fide river rat. At 40, my nine-year old stepson died suddenly in a yard accident. My wife and I both lost our jobs, I earned a Master of Science degree when I was 55, but then woke up pitch-black deaf two years later, and haven’t heard a sound since. Yet, here I am somehow, nearly 70, and writing for the world on Spillwords. Having a ball! People are quirky and unpredictable; life is nuts. Roll with it. Absorb it. Use it as story material. Write as therapy. Never give up.
I would also say that the hail of corkscrews flung my way has made me more cynical over the decades, although I was already molded that way by three sardonic influences as a teenager: MAD Magazine, Mark Twain, and the Marx Brothers, and by a family who liked to find the worst in things. Other writers may have muses, but Diogenes is my patron saint.
- Scary Larry - October 30, 2024
- The Lord of Lil’ Grover’s Mill, West Virginia - July 11, 2024
- Weed World - March 20, 2024
