I'm waiting for the race to start -- I write a column on NASCAR every week for Bleacher Report -- and pondering the promotion of my upcoming novel. I'm also watching the Boston Red Sox play the Tampa Bay Rays. I've been reading the reviews. Not the reviews of my books. The responses to …
Author: wastedpilgrim
I'm a writer.
Blogs. Novels. Journalism. Songs.
It's all I know how to do well.
What’s Done Is Just Getting Started
Home is a refuge. I'm holed up, contemplating the day ahead, and trying to be creative. This is the way most days begin. Precisely this. I get myself ready to write by trying to cultivate coherence, cohesion, and, quite possibly, several other words that begin with "C." Soon, and tentatively, July 14, my third …
The Way We Do the Things We Do
Get a grip. Have a clue. Or have a grip. Get a clue. Either way, right now, you are both gripless and clueless. Know what I'm saying? Never have we interacted more. Never has it mattered less. The world is empty. We like it that way. Let's make it emptier. Order up another dozen Justin …
Personalized Treatment
Most Mondays were the same. Olin Hampden was accustomed to it. Minor crises took up as much time as major ones. The wife of the president of Hortense National Bank had a fender bender; she had backed her Escalade into the back of a Nissan that was backing out of a space behind her at …
Why My Novel Is Running
One of the recurring signature events of any political campaign occurs when a candidate is asked why he's running and can't answer it. If a person can't say why he (or she) wants to occupy the office he seeks, invariably he will claim this fundamental question is of the "gotcha" variety. Then he tells his …
Observations of My Humdrum Day
I had a productive day. The majority was busy and business, though I finished a short story I'm not going to post on my web site because it's unconventional and catered to the requirements of a contest. I haven't entered it yet because I have to shave about 150 words in order to make it …
Nothing Left to Lose
On Saturday morning, I was riding around and around my front yard on a mower, listening to Charlie Robison’s “Desperate Times.” That’s where this dark tale started. Joe Scharmann had applied for dozens of jobs. Three had deigned to invite him for interviews. Those whose job it was to conduct the interviews knew better than …
A Selfie Portrait
This morning I started fooling around with this laptop -- okay, this is a tablet linked to a keyboard -- and I started tinkering with the Fresh Paint app that came with it. As you may know, sometime in 2014, I started drawing simple sketches to illustrated my short stories here and the blogs at …
Horses in Disguise
I tried to think stimulating thoughts and come up with something profound, but, so far, all I’ve come up with is “you say potato, I say po-tah-to” and “what’s good for the Michigoose is good for the Michigander,” which probably has something to do with the NASCAR race being there. In other words, I got …
Contemplating the Ripples
I had time to kill. I had driven over to the college town early that morning and spoken to several classes. I make so few “days of it,” and a freshman outfielder in one of the classes had invited me to come see the team play. I said, “Hey, I’d like to do that,” when …
Nightrider's Lament 