Tim Barrus Blog

Posts tagged with Tim-Barrus-Novel

  1. Dirt Bike Town: The Dunes

    Tim Barrus Art


  2. Dirt Bike Town

    Dirt Bike Town is the Great American Novel. The photograph represents a scene from this current book project. It begins in a cave. There are many species that live in caves. Many homo sapiens are claustrophobic. In Dirt Bike Town, the cave has kept the ruins of the archives safe…


  3. Tim Barrus: Through Windows


  4. U R only 1 person With Only 1 Voice So Pretend 2 Have a Thousand & This Is Hubris

    You are one person. One voice. One way of seeing what might be real. Just Being a Homo Sapien’s Sapien, for all these sapiens, it seems little progress has been at what would be a self-generated evolution that at least hopefully wants to save the world. It is a disgusting,


  5. Tim Barrus: I Don’t Always Wear a Helmet I Have Been Driving Dirt Bikes Since 1962 And No Accidents No Helmet Means I Can Get Away With It

    Spilling from their numbers, their throats were their throats. The swallowing. The wisdom of the fools has no secrets having been limited to blood at first, and then a tongue in my mouth is to sweets as a special name day, but as pictures, the moon is down, and it…


  6. Tim Barrus: Stop Asking Me To Write Outlines

    The Universe is not an outline. The Literary Universe refuses to believe that some of the tools we used to employ (like write an outline) to sell the thing, are dated. Publishing loves anything dated. It often feels like my Old Aunt Dimpleburger runs the whole thing. When I say…


  7. Autism Spectrum We Do Not Know That Much About the Brain Although We Pretend We Do. Rubbish.

    What was it like when you were a kid. They all go there. Sooner or later. I was a straight A student who supported his family. At thirteen. At fourteen I knew I would shoot myself. I did.


  8. TIM BARRUS: SELLING FILM AND BOOK RIGHTS

    I live in Dirt Bike Town. Where the saw dust and the oil and the bales of hay and all the old men (younger than me) lean up against the fence to feel just a bit of it, not unlike the wind through the creaky oaks, the mud, and I…


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