Caleb Jacobo

My Thoughts and Creative Writing

Latest stories

Daphne, a Poem

Thank you for visiting my public writing journal! This poem I’ve been working on for the past week; I hope you enjoy!     “Daphne” by Caleb Jacobo Mid-December snows whirl round the farmhouse As Tom wends out the door with late Daphne, Says he, “I’ll bury her by the Laurel Tree — Tonight she’ll dine with better company.” How quickly the Moonflowers of Man’s heart Pile and bloom...

Everett Ricocheted: A Holiday Tragedy

Thank you for visiting my public writing journal, and Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it. I have a special holiday story for you today! I had the idea for this prompt a few days ago, but I have been so busy with other writing projects, I didn’t have a chance to sit down and start writing it until this morning. I did most of the planning and plotting yesterday, then started writing...

Veterans Day Brawl: A Middle-Grade Mystery

Welcome to my public writing journal, and Thank you to our Veterans! I’m glad you stopped by; I have a special treat for you today. Over the past three days, I’ve been working on a sketch for a Middle-Grade short story. The first day, I spent several hours on story structure and development. Day two, I wrote the first draft. Day three, I finished and revised that draft. This is the most time I...

Happy Halloween

For those who celebrate it; Happy Halloween! I wanted to do a fun themed writing exercise this morning for Halloween, so I came up with the prompt, “Three real witches arrive at a party” Based on this I started writing, seat of my pants, which I only do in exercise mind you, and I had so much fun with it, I had trouble stopping. But, my wife and children deserve their own Halloween celebration as...

East of Ethan

Thank you for visiting my public writing journal. This writing exercise was inspired by a passage out of one of my favorite Steinbeck novels. You can guess which one by the title. I spent an hour sketching this out yesterday—the 22nd—and a good hour today—the 23rd—spent revising and editing. The exercise goal for myself here was controlling reader emotions, as well as information release control...

Detective Jimmy Hallaren of New Mexico

I wrote this scene sketch this morning to play with my sentence construction. I hope you enjoy the read. Narcotics Detective Jimmy Hallaren sat in an early model Ford sedan, in the New Mexico desert three miles outside of Santa Fe, his .40 caliber pistol, unholstered, on the passenger seat, his bearded, cracked hand resting beside it, his dark eyes fixed on a dark patch in the road, irregular...

The Strangest Hat and the Oddest Girl

Sophie’s wiry fingers quivered violently as they pressed glue in place, attaching a lace veil to a felt bonnet she had laid out on her workbench; her joints swelled; if she stopped now, she might sleep through the night without waking in painful sweats; but Sophie would not take a break; if Sophie stopped making hats for even a moment, she feared all she would do is stare at the old grandfather...

One Flew Over the Food Court

Yasmin and I took the kids to the Shopping Mall on Saturday after our workout. We promised Adam to buy him the latest Blox constructible. It was still morning; the food court scuffled with cuckoos and stirred with the stale stench of the dying; but my gut moaned and the family agreed; lunch must come early. We sat at a small circular table with the double stroller parked in place of the fourth...

Died in a Hot Shop

Old man Jackie had a dry, tacky mouth; made it hard for him to swallow. He worked in a hot shop — you know the name? Hot shop, a name used in the days, call a place a hot shop to say the place makes irons, see? Iron drills, iron arms, and bits, see? Well, Jackie, this man was a hot man with a tacky mouth and not a hair on his head. The heat from his torch burn it straight off. The skin it left...

At the Old Ball Game

Old Kramer Lindorf struck the mound with his cleated toe — two outs, one batter up. The Baltimore Tigers were closing in on their first victory of the season and it was all thanks to Kramer’s seasoned pitch; twisting over the plate at speeds over 100mph. The only thing he needed to do was keep the batter on the plate; when who else should stride to it but young Smithy Smithers; fresh from his...

Caleb Jacobo My Thoughts and Creative Writing