It is a good day to face reality, Easter. The celebration of Christ's Resurrection has coincidentally, over time, tied itself to the vow of poverty otherwise known as tax time. It's not actually until April 15, but it behooves one to approach that date with caution, lest one leave oneself insufficient time to prepare …
Tag: 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 …
Please Buy My Novels Out of Thin Air
My new novel, Forgive Us Our Trespasses, goes on sale at Amazon.com on March 29. To my friends who cling to their tightly packed paper, I apologize because the new novel, like the last one, will be unavailable in print, at least for now. I'd like to sell paper novels. I own the rights to …
No Ordinary Indiscretion
In the past year, I've read a lot of chases. Hapless victims of fate, running for their lives. A young man trying come to grips with a mother both dead and outlandish. The Southwest. The Mid-Atlantic. Florida. Polly Iyer's Indiscretion begins on the coast of South Carolina and changes venues to Boston, where it …
High Above the World Where No One Cares
Marvin staggered out of bed, stopped off for a leak, and advanced boldly into the kitchen in search of a swallow of water to combat the cotton mouth. Gaining coherence and mental acuity, he applied the fundamentals of coffee making to his machine and retreated because nature was beginning to call, and, sometimes, in …
Moping About the Madness
This morning I'm feeling paralyzed. I need to write about cowboys in 1946, and my mind is stuck in the present. I've tried sticking planks under the tires. I've jammed the gears. Nothing. So I decided to ruminate here. I'm thinking. I'm thinking. Here's the transition I've been making, and it may be unduly influenced …
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 …
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. …
Too Much Information About the Way the Morning Went
I just read the county arrest report on my iPhone. Police charged a man named Roydrecilous Irby with "giving false information to law enforcement." I wonder if it was his name. The bad weather has "about played out," as is often said around here. It's slick, but it'll be wet by tomorrow. I had to …
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Nightrider's Lament 