My father was a wonderful storyteller. I was probably an adult before I ever questioned their truthfulness. It seemed like my dad was either alone, or with a long-forgotten pal, when the miraculous events in question occurred. They were almost funny. Among my friends, they became my famous, as did my dad. One of my …
The Inestimable Benefit of Sport
"Remember that time we almost lost to Hugheyville?" "Yeah," Dan Dimmelmeier replied. "Us playing against a school so small that they barely had enough boys in the student body to field a team." "Went into the seventh inning trailing by a run," his best friend, Brandin Porcher, recalled. "Then we tied it on a single …
Time and Place
I got up early. I used to get up early all the time, probably six-thirty on the average, but it's unusual for me to have to be up early, and I usually stay up late, reading and watching late-night talk shows, and I go to bed when I'm good and ready, and wake up when …
Coming Home Took a While for the Author, Too
Today was fun. I didn't go anywhere but L&L Office Supply for a couple reams of paper. Okay, I stopped by the Old Mill for an early supper, before the crowds hit. The crowds had already hit Dempsey's. It's tough to beat that crowd on a Monday. The writing was fun. I had the docket …
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Speeding, and Fiction, and … Speeding Through Fiction
I can't drive 55. I can drive 62. They never stop you when you're 10 miles an our or less over the speed limit. About four months ago, I got my first speeding ticket in at least five years. I got it in the worst state possible to be stopped for speeding, North Carolina, which …
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Tuesday Morning Consciousness Stream
I've had much to think of, and yet I've learned gradually that I'm living in a world that seldom thinks. It tweets. It texts. It posts. It links. It sinks. But it seldom thinks. It's turnt af. Nowumsayin? Saturday was unexpected. I was pecking away at something at least as nonsensical as this when …
The Big Mistake
Beuerlein was an upscale town of about three thousand, perched on the New Jersey Shore. Unlike many such towns, Beuerlein's residents mostly lived there year around, and most who didn't were writers, artists, and craftsmen, and craftswomen, of other ilks. Lots of intelligent, good-natured people lived there, and most didn't get too out of shape …
What a Tangled Web I’ve Weaved
I'm sort of a mass of contradictions this morning. I want to get myself in the mood to work on fiction, but, so far, this has been one of those mornings in which I can't come up with a topic, and so I bide some time by reading my timeline, and checking the weather, and …
The Library in the Palm of My Hand
I spent most of Thursday back in time. It was New Year's Day of 1947, and LSU and Arkansas were playing to a scoreless tie in a Cotton Bowl contested in snow and ice. That much is true. The game was taking place amid fiction. I completed the longest chapter to date in my …
The End of the Tunnel
This is bound to be a unique kind of book review. First of all, the book I just finished, Shine, is the third in a series. Secondly, it's not fiction. Thirdly, I've known the author, Joey Holland, for most of my life, probably dating back to some swing set or playground slide or sandbox. …
Nightrider's Lament 