Each holiday season I buy about six to eight gift cards, redeemable at a coffee shop or bookstore. I tape one gift card to a greeting card and mail it to a particular friend. The greeting cards are not holiday … Continue reading →
About David D. Horowitz
David D. Horowitz lives in Seattle, where he manages Rose Alley Press. His poems have appeared in many journals and anthologies, including The Raven Chronicles, Terrain.org, The Lyric, The Literary Nest, Light, Poetic Impressions, and Coffee Poems, and his essays regularly appear online in Exterminating Angel. His poetry collections include Slow Clouds over Rush Hour and Cathedral and Highrise. David frequently organizes and hosts poetry readings in and around Seattle, and his website is www.rosealleypress.com.
Conversation Starter by David D. Horowitz As a child, I always regretted the end of summer vacation. How I loved waking late, playing softball until dusk, and gathering afterward with friends for sodas, ice cream, and raucous conversation. School offered … Continue reading →
Writing It Real member David D. Horowitz offers his memories of playing softball and baseball as a child. We learn and remember that even our best memories can be tinged by the experience of difficult situations. Whether your own memories … Continue reading →
When times become threatening, dangerous, and oppressive, we must write to show our humanity and influence others to do the same. Writing It Real member David D. Horowitz shares his thoughts. I hope that encourages others to take to the … Continue reading →
We are off to a good start for our February epistolary writing! I am grateful to David Horowitz for writing a piece for us to post this week. I also tried my hand at writing in this form and am posting my letter as well. I hope to hear from more of you. Here again … Continue reading →
This spring, I met publisher and poet David D. Horowitz, who was selling books from his Rose Alley Press, at the Redmond, Washington Poets in the Park Conference. As I browsed the press’s well-designed, handsome books, David asked if he could read me a poem from one. “Of course,” I said, and he read from … Continue reading →