I raced right through Winter Solstice, a compilation of short stories by Kindle Press authors. Part of the reason I raced through was that two of the stories, “Strange Bedfellows” and “Chance Chills,” are mine. I’m lying. They were the first two I read. When an author reads stories he wrote, and he hasn’t …
Category: Fiction
Cowboys at Warp Speed
Every day has its ups and downs. Okay, not every day. It seems as if mine are seldom mediocre. Either everything goes right, or vice-versa. This one has gone wildly erratic. Let’s highlight the positive, though. My fifth novel, first western and second historical, is impending. Today I approved the proof. I’m delighted with the …
Spinning Supplemental Yarns
It’s not just another Thursday. I’ve been writing for most of two days. Come to think of it, I’ve been writing all week. I’ve been writing all month. I’ve been writing my whole life. If I didn’t love writing, I’d be tired of it by now. On Monday and Tuesday, I wrote about sports. Two …
The World’s Fastest Review Is Two Clicks Away
I don't have a clue whether or not the KindleScout program will be interested in my fifth novel, Cowboys Come Home. Two previous novels, Crazy of Natural Causes and Forgive Us Our Trespasses, have been selected by the Amazon program, so, as Bill Murray said in Caddyshack, I've got that going for me. On the …
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News-Free Love
I haven't written enough short stories recently. This one could wind up as the beginning of a novel. Fortunately, by nature, Jordie Smithson was annoyingly early. He always allowed for disaster. A traffic jam on the way to the airport, for instance. On this Monday, the traffic jam was on the way to the office. …
Who’s Afraid of the Big, Bad Wolf, or, for that Matter, Virginia Woolf?
The Behrg. He's too dark for me. I admire him, though. He is what I'm not, but I revel in his skill. It's a pen name. A nom de plume. He writes horror. I'm not fond of horror, but I'm fond of The Behrg's style, not to mention his literary honesty and his dedication to …
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The Great Known
Mickey got up, drank some coffee, fixed breakfast, and rejoiced in the honor of being the last person on earth whose mother had the good sense to name her son Mickey, and he thought about the glory of Mickey Mantle, Mickey Stanley, Mickey Spillane, and Mickey Montgomery. Okay, the last one he made up. Then …
Songs Sung Longer
Friends, I didn't always write these novels. For the better part of thirty-five years, I was known for eighteen-inch stories in newspapers, and for the final twenty, they generally consisted of tales of race cars running wide-ass open around and around. I still rely on such tales for spending money. If journalism still ran on …
Stuck in a Rut, but with a Plan Now
Some of my songs have gotten longer. I've got some big news. A volume of short stories, Longer Songs, will soon be available. In fact, apparently it's available now, through the CreateSpace store, as a Kindle book. The print version will be available on Amazon and, perhaps in a bookstore here and there, soon. Writing …
Inside the Park
It was the bottom of the sixth inning on a Tuesday afternoon, and Johnny Shelburn stepped to the plate with the bases empty and two men out. Sacks, his teammates called him. He played first base. He took a strike. A little high for his taste. The Larranega Heights pitcher was a lefty. He …
Nightrider's Lament 