Yankee, Aussie, freelance (and whatever-inspires-me) writer. Happier.
Editor at Counter Arts, Rainbow Salad and Songstories on Medium.com. You can also find me at https://hullwb.medium.com and https://ko-fi.com/willhull.
Thanks for reading.
Let Your Clothes Do Your Talking, It Saves Time and Etiquette
I’ve finally found an upside to this ongoing pandemic. You know, besides the whole staying alive and survival thing. I don’t have to smile or talk to anyone.
Advocating For Mental Health In The Writing Community
"What or Who do you advocate for?" That was a question a writer friend asked me a few weeks ago. It was a question, when I thought of it as a writing prompt, felt BIG. Too big for me to get my head around.
When Even Toilet Paper Is More Creative Than You
I was flat. After writing daily for the better part of a year, I’ve noticed one thing. Possibly many things, but for this exercise, let’s call it one.
Tangents Along the River Styx
All hail, all things 70s. Or is it, ‘Oh hell, more things 70s’? While I think about that, read this. I’m sitting here listening to nothing other than a damned fly buzzing around the room rather than Spotify’ing songs from the very first album I ever bought.
I Went To A Wedding And My Brain Aged 36 Years
The afternoon was beautifully perfect. The sun warm, highlighting the lush grasses of the countryside, shining down on the bride and groom.
What Time-Stopped, Disconnect Weirdness Is This?
June 2021 Being back in my old stomping grounds feels different this time around. This hasn’t been just a journey of crossing an ocean. This trip’s been interplanetary. And nearly as time-consuming.
Can Dignity Be Put In A Box?
“Cremation requires a box.” said our funeral arranger. “You mean the urn.” My brother said. “No, the cremation of the body requires a box.”
I Wrote For The Dead
“The problem with being the obituary writer in a dying small town? I have to write fiction to help pay the bills.” — Anderson Hohl
Journals, Jokes, and What We Leave Out
Writing isn’t the truth, it is the way to the truth. I read a fictionalised version of the above sentence yesterday in Stephen King’s latest novel. I replaced ‘fiction’ with ‘writing’, creating my truth.
Durian Vs Vegemite
While on local holiday a month ago, an odor wafted through our campsite. Gas leak? Dead animal knocking over a trash bin while farting sulfur? No such luck. We recognised the smell. The family one site over was enjoying an after-dinner delight.
A Thanksgiving Without Pilgrims
One of my last Thanksgivings stateside Stuffing myself til bleary-eyed With family in Cal And some guy named Al It ended on the couch on my backside
Road Trip: Virginia
Past the homes of Washington and Jefferson and following a route that felt as zig-zag as the battlefield fences that crisscross the countryside, my partner and I headed east from the beaches of Virginia to the border of West Virginia.