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Pat Bertram's Writings

View Pat’s Books | Read Pat’s other writings below.

Red Room
Karen opened a store about the same time she started going out with Max. That year, she lost so much money and he made so much money they married at the end of December to enable him to save a bundle on taxes, which they split fifty-fifty. Ah! The sweet romance of tax deductions! Decades later, they are still married and muddling along together quite well. Ted...
Short Story
Anthologized in Murder in the Wind ISBN# 978-1935171379
It was a dark and stormy night. Silas Slovotsky leaned back in his chair and studied the words he’d typed into his computer. He grinned. Perfect. The very words he needed to set the scene. And they had the added benefit of being true. It was a dark and stormy night. Except for his porch light, of course. And the thunder and lightning— He leaned forward and peered...
Bertram's Blog
Lazarus: The other day I was marveling at the uncanny string of events—starting with a writing contest on Gather.com—that brought me many wonderful new friends, saw the publication of my first two novels and empowered me to express my artistic vision in ways that I never imagined. When I read Julia Cameron's book, The Artist's Way, I began to wonder if in fact...
Bertram's Blog -- October 20, 2008
In October 2008, when I asked Cliff Burns, author of So Dark the Night, if he'd like to guest host my blog, he responded that he'd rather have a discussion. I was thrilled. I enjoy talking about writing, but even more than that, I love learning how other writers approach the craft. This is a transcript of that conversation. BERTRAM: For me, writing is like the...
Short Story
Effie felt like the last woman left alive, and maybe she was -- she hadn’t seen another soul since the blizzard began. It had been screaming outside the cabin for more than a month, and all that remained in her larder were a cup of flour and a pinch of yeast, enough to make a small loaf of French bread. She raised her fingers to her throat and closed them around...
Short Story
Heather’s eyes grew round as she stared at the sparkling diamond in the ring Dexter had just given her. All her friends had laughed at her for going out with him. He was older than her father and had even less hair, but she always knew it would pay off in the end. And now she had the ring. “That’s bad,” she said, trying to sound cool and sophisticated. “It is?”...
Short Story
Tom milled around the prison yard with the other inmates, waiting for the sound of death. There would be no stay of execution for their condemned mate, who would die in a most barbaric way. “They don’t care that he’s innocent,” Tom said. “As are we all. The system is guilty, but no one wants to buck tradition.” The thud of the axe made him flinch. He bowed his...
Beneath purple mountain's majesty:     Alfalfa blossoms      And restless symmetry.   What? All this for me?   Well, yes. And for humanity.