Archived entries for Vic Sizemore

Who Needs to Read Anymore?

By Vic Sizemore

And they have this new language they use, one I’m only slightly familiar with. This makes me nervous. Am I really the one who’s being left behind? Continue Reading …

The Boy Who Lived Large

By Vic Sizemore

Tyler was sixteen years old. The service was nice. The pastor had lost a six-year-old daughter to asthma, and was particularly tuned in to the family’s pain. Continue Reading …

The Severe Wind Event

By Vic Sizemore

Strange iridescent-green insects flitted around, bugs who normally live in the tops of those trees where we never see them. Continue Reading …

My Kite Boy

By Vic Sizemore

I was afraid. I did my quick mental inventory. Everything was as it should be. Kids in bed. Doors locked. Then I remembered the nightmares I’d just had in rapid succession. Continue Reading …

Telling Secrets

By Vic Sizemore

In the February issue of The Writer’s Chronicle, Alice Mattison states flatly: “Telling the truth is wrong, if somebody wants to keep it secret.” Angering family and friends, or hurting someone’s feelings, is a perennial fear of most of the writers I know. Continue Reading …

Tree of Life, Tree of Light

By Vic Sizemore

Swirling eruptions on earth eventually lead to the formation of life. Organisms spring up, develop, evolve. Eventually creatures appear. Dinosaurs. They struggle. They kill. They eat. Continue Reading …

Happy and Unhappy Families

By Vic Sizemore

When Tolstoy says that happy families are all alike, what he means is that they are all alike in this one thing: they are boring, not worth writing about. Unhappy families. Now those are interesting. Continue Reading …

Choose Ye This Day Thy Paradox

By Vic Sizemore

I am not overly interested in the so called battle between Science and Religion. I have my opinions, but my deep interest is elsewhere. It just seems to keep popping up around me lately. Continue Reading …

Church for Husbands: What Music Means to Me

By Vic Sizemore

Music might be the thing that in the end helps me keep my faith. I haven’t admitted this to my wife or kids, because I’ve made it abundantly clear that I don’t like the TV show Glee. Continue Reading …

Among the Train Hoppers

By Vic Sizemore

I drink with train hoppers. I seek them out, hang with them. My wife is fine with it. She accepts my fascination with them, even if she doesn’t fully understand it. Here in Lynchburg, Virginia, in among the train hoppers is where I find the gang I’m looking for: a cluster of former Liberty University students. Continue Reading …



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