The things you find when you look through old folders.
Fortune Cookie Caper
About Me
Formerly a paramedic, wilderness guide, and entrepreneur, Douglas Wright is now a Pacific Northwest novelist and short story writer. Raised on the west coast of Canada, Wright started writing (probably) bad poetry in high-school before moving on to exhortations supporting the elimination of television. Further forays into word count controlled journalism included three-bit pieces in... Continue Reading →
The ai that gave itself the same name, twice.
My conversation about eyeballs and identity with Nova. I was working on my novel yesterday, and discovered that I didn't know the spelling for 'anesthesia'. So, I opened my desktop dictionary to get it. The trouble was, I was butchering the spelling so badly that the dictionary autofill wasn't picking up what I was laying... Continue Reading →
Elk Hunting Bootcamp Experience: From Novice to Know-How
I lay prone in the dirt of an Idaho mountainside, gravel digging into my elbows. I watched a puff of dust dissipate in the distant air, 1120 yards across the gorge. A voice came from behind me. “Just beneath his feet and behind him. Come up twelve and hold right for wind.” Said Joseph, in... Continue Reading →
Marooned
I was rowing a small boat many years ago, fighting the wind and the current after a day of fishing. It seemed futile in the weather I had and night was coming, so I decided to spend the night on an small offshore island. It was here I found a wild and solitary man sitting... Continue Reading →
Transcendental Pizza – A Short Story
It was the day of the family reunion, back in the summer of 1984, and we were having a picnic on the village green. Everyone had shown up; all the uncles and aunts, all the cousins, grandma and grandpa, everyone. It was absolutely marvelous. I love those big Italian get-togethers, they’re full of laughs and... Continue Reading →
Entry Prohibited – A Short Story
The helicopter’s blades thup-thup-thupped steadily as the small yellow machine flew low over the forest. The morning sun gave a coniferous green glow to the trees that spread in all directions like a bristly shag rug.
Douglas Writes... 