Amber Lenore Winckler
No great sadness leaves the child unwise................... -from journal age 15
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About Amber Winckler
NOVEL- The Final Bath
NOVEL- Into the Hands of
SHORT STORIES- The Distri
SHORT STORIES- Harvey
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AUTHOR/EMBALMER

 

Amber Lenore Winckler is an Author

and a California Licensed Funeral Director,Embalmer, and Crematory Manager.

 

Her writing is infused with experiences of her career in the death care profession. She grew up reading the works of Edgar Allan Poe, Clive Barker, Charles Bukowski, and Marguerite Duras. She has been heavily influenced by these four great writers. 

"I enjoy mind-kicking horror and works by chronic   

journal-writers... I can relate."- Author

 

THE FINAL BATH is now available on AMAZON.com
(ISBN 978-0-9842736-0-7)
$12.99 paperback
$8.99 Kindle 
 
INTO THE HANDS OF STRANGERS is now available on AMAZON.com
(ISBN 978-0984236-1-4)
$13.99 paperback
Kindle coming soon
 
 
Harold the cat 
How long can you possibly last when the world has already whittled most of you away?
              -from journal age 26
 
For all your blatant finery
you are not so very impressive
laid out on stainless steel.                                            
        -from journal age 36
  
 
Godless is as Godless does...
      -from journal age 15
 
 
Look at my hands.
Would you dare to ask what crimes they have committed?
What faces they have touched--
What pain they caused--
What agony--
What terror--
(what rubbish they wrote?)
  - from journal age 36
 
  
 
For your birthday
an ode to the smoke and coffee that fill you
I tolerate your habit of them with the same loving tenderness that you
tolerate my habit
of you.
            -from journal age 27
 
 What expression does your God wear
as He gazes down upon you?
Pride? Respect? Compassion?
(Tell us the truth, can He bear the sight of you?)

           -from journal, age 37 
 
*Excerpts and images may not be used without express permission from the author.

 

Why do you lie like that?
I don't usually- you caught me in a bad year...

             -from journal age 16


 

 

You look as if you should be off somewhere

sitting amongst rows of Kings

and yet here you stay

in all your glory

close to me.

              -from journal age 31

 
 
"You are all dry inside... you are like a cracker," she offered.
"That is not a very nice thing to say to me, Ambi."
          -from journal, age 24
 
 
Funerals could be so peaceful.
More peaceful, I think, than anything.
There was a collective silence rare amongst groups of people.
You could hear them breathing,
sobbing softly--
and the strong reasonance of the pastor
repeating Godly phrases.
             -from journal, age 25
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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