Not many know or remember this but Shaktian Space (such a silly name) was started in 2007 for two main purposes: posting utterly bad poems and brutally honest movie reviews. Over the years, as my writing evolved, I pressed the brake on (forgettable) poetry and geared up on journalistic writing, with a significant dose of existentialism. However, my obsession with cinema festered. I continued to post my thoughts on movie scenes, the deeper meanings of a given dialogue, philosophies behind character’s unsaid dilemma, and so on.

A former KUSI news anchor filed a lawsuit July 28 against the news station and its chief financial officer, who accessed her private emails during the recent highly publicized court case involving another former news anchor’s discrimination lawsui… ncG1vNJzZmikpaCyqa3RqKOdZqOqr7TAwJyiZ5ufonyxe8WoqaadomK4tr%2FIZqWer6Nirq%2Bvx6ipZp6ZobK0ecuarqytmanA

“To all of us who ever tried to twitch our noses and make things happen” That’s from the dedication to Mr. & Mrs. Witch, my new novel out today. And, if you’ve ever seen Bewitched, or even a clip of Bewitched, I bet you know exactly what I mean. I thought instead of telling you -- again -- just about the book, I’d instead write about why I love witches and why I think they’re having a moment (besides that we all love them, duh)…and a little about the book.

Support original, independent journalism for Charlotte with a membership to The Charlotte Ledger: Today's Charlotte Ledger is sponsored by By George Communications: By George Communications is a newsroom-trained boutique public relations firm. We love stories. After all, stories build connections. Stories help you grow – your brand, your career, your following, your organization, your sales. Why keep your stories waiting, By George? Charlotte apartment developer Gateway Communities turned to the hit 1990s TV show “Seinfeld” for inspiration in naming two apartment projects — one in NoDa and one in Ballantyne — and had fun with the street names, too.

When I was five my family added three Pekin ducks to our unofficial rescue operation. My mother invited my brother and me to name our new family members. “Bite-y!” My toddler brother declared, scowling at the duck that had just snapped his finger. And then he waddled off leaving the task of Genesis to me. Sacred naming. I turned to the other two and eyed them carefully. The bleary-eyed duck I called Zeus.