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Time has come.
It has been an amazingly few trips around the sun but my services as a recreation director on a cruise-line have been terminated. They said something about a diamond heist, or a burglary or something. They didn’t seem to be smiling. This coincides nicely with the time that my meat suit is due to be…
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135 Days
When I started noodling the pages that would become “Rube” the novel, I figured it would be a short story. I didn’t have much of anything to start with but somehow the universe kept throwing people and places and numbers at me so I started jotting them down. One file in my Google Drive was…
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Reveille
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia “Reveille” (US: /ˈrɛvəli/ REV-əl-ee, UK: /rɪˈvæli/ rih-VAL-ee),[1] called in French “Le Réveil” is a bugle call, trumpet call, drum, fife-and-drum or pipes call most often associated with the military; it is chiefly used to wake military personnel at sunrise. The name comes from réveille (or réveil), the French word for “wake up”. I love it. The French word for wake-up. It gives me visions of some…
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Death and Dying
This is an interesting exercise, I have heard proclaming from of the older trees and some of them have the beginnings of some of the old wisdom which has started to hang around.
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Here we go gathering nuts in May
Death is a funny color, I awaken every morning to a variety of death. It is inescapable, especially if I happen to catch a reflexion of myself in the glistening of the foggy, glossy skim which floats languidly on the top of the bowl. I have begun amusing myself writing with little entries into my…
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There’s no Place Like Home
And this is where I stand, or rather sit scribing. I wish I could lie and say I’m sitting in the breakfast nook – it sounds so “American elite”, I grab the rotary phone off the coffee table and dial a faded memory. That sounds like something a young new writer would do. Add a…
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Suicide
When my dad committed suicide, it was after an attack on my mom. The only gun he had was his anesthetic machine at work, so that’s where he went and that’s the trigger he pulled. 40 years later and I am confronted again. Not with my own suicide, but with an old friend who’s marriage…
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Hay Ma Look, I’m dyin’. nyuck, nyuck, nyuck.
And it must be just that easy right? I’m not that guy who has jumped into the research on death and dying. I figure I have just enough time to ponder that shit before I hang up my spurs altogether. So I resolve to blog from a position of going for the laugh rather than…
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Everywhere you go, there you are. Again.
No matter how much I would like to be everywhere, trying to discover where that everywhere is, is hard. I like the sentiment which seems to imply that I am indeed somewhere. This is an awkward time. Not just because I am digging my own hole in the ground, both metaphorically and temporally, but because…
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Gone with the wind
Just made it back from the doctor. Today was an interesting day – we’ll call it the “shoot, shit or get off the pot” day. Probably by way of explanation I should bring my readers up to speed as to the desire to bring my blog current. For the next few months (should I last…
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My editor got her copy of the book before I got mine. It is to weep.
She has remained until now a slightly moving shape in the forest. You haven’t had nearly as much personal contact as I have had with Susan Quinland Stringer our editor. Both author and editor typically order a paperback for themselves. But usually the universe blesses the author with receiving their copies first. I mean common…
You gotta land sooner or later 