BILL GLOSE is an award-winning writer whose honors include the F. Scott Fitzgerald Short Story Award, the Virginia Press Association First Place Award for Sports News Writing, and the Missouri Humanities Council Award for Veteran's Poetry. Garrison Keillor read one of Bill's poems on The Writer's Almanac, which aired on 600 radio stations nationwide. As time allows, Bill travels around the state to film poetry readings, which he posts on his YouTube Channel, Virginia Poetry Online.
Bill is the author of four books of poetry—Virginia Walkabout (San Francisco Bay Press, 2018), Personal Geography (David Robert Books, 2016), Half a Man (FutureCycle Press, 2013), and The Human Touch (San Francisco Bay Press, 2007)—and editor of the story anthology, Ten Twisted Tales (San Francisco Bay Press, 2008). Since 2003, he has been a contributing editor with Virginia Living and a regular contributor to other magazines. He appears frequently as a featured speaker on literary craft and serves as a judge in writing contests. Hundreds of his articles, short stories, and poems have appeared in numerous publications, some of which are shown at the right.
For a complete list of publication credits, click HERE.
PUBLICATION CREDITS INCLUDE:
Bill's latest book|
“Before you open Bill's book grab your walking stick. You are going on a journey of centuries as much as miles.”
author of Manhattan to Machipongo
Homage to My Mentor
“Do you want to write,” he said, “or do you just want to be a writer?” The difference, he went on to explain, was that many people want to be known as a writer, to be some famous name that people talk about, but few are willing to do the work that good writing requires.
The Assignment sounded easy enough: a profile story on a super-heavyweight lawyer who wore a purple suit and diamond-studded Rolex to trial and alternated days driving his Ferrari and Rolls-Royce. Best of all, Max (not his real name) spoke his mind and spouted memorable quotes, especially on the topic of his favorite subject—himself.
The Rise of Bria Kelly
Bria Kelly had prepared for this moment, but she was only seventeen and scared to death. In a few minutes, she would step onto stage to sing 90 seconds worth of music to four titans of the music industry...
Sand Soccer Attracts Players with Grit
Short fields, no shoes, bikinied spectators. No wonder more than 6,000 athletes came to Virginia Beach for the largest single-weekend of sand soccer in the world.
Racing for Glory
The four-minute mile: For decades it was one of sport’s mythical milestones, the standard by which all middle-distance runners were measured. The first person to break the four-minute barrier was Roger Bannister in 1954. “Doctors and scientists said that breaking the four-minute mile was impossible, that one would die in the attempt,” Bannister said. “Thus, when I got up from the track after collapsing at the finish line, I figured I was dead.”
Norfolk Scientists Zap Cancer
Sandy has skin cancer and will die. Sylvia has the same cancer—four melanomas on her skin— and will live. The difference? Electricity. Sylvia received two high-voltage treatments and is now a cancer-free mouse while Sandy, part of a control group, died within four days.
Chasing the Issue
"It's not my fault! My accountant filled in the form!" Caroline Ciraolo can't tell you how many meetings with new clients have begun with those words.
Poker Goes Mainstream
Twenty is a typical weeknight crowd for Manhattan's Deli and Pub in Newport News, Virginia, but tonight—a Tuesday—the Pocket Poker Aces League is hosting a poker tournament. It's only the second time they've appeared at this location, but word has already spread and tonight over 200 people pack inside.
Four Poem Feature
by Bill Glose
All smells are particulate. Think about that
as you march past burned trucks.
Upon melted seats are forms, blackened and shriveled
like banana peels left in the sun...
The guard at the park entrance regarded my driver’s license with skepticism. “This doesn’t look like you,” he said. He was right. My weight had nearly doubled in the nine years since the photo had been taken. Most mornings I barely recognized my own face in the mirror.