Tag Archives: writing

Deep dive

I’m in the midst of writing my second book and it’s bringing up some old but heavy shit.

Where the first book was fiction, this one is non-fiction, a journey through care giving a loved one battling cancer.  In examining some of my beliefs and reactions through the process, I’ve gone back to examine how those beliefs and opinions were formed, which takes me back a long ways – to the age of two. I remember as if it were yesterday, a fall foto_westfield_101958_OakAve_Jimmy_front lawnOctober day in 1958.  My father was burning leaves (allowed back then) and Mom was doing whatever she was doing, one of those things being taking pictures of the 23 month old brat sitting on the steps playing with the carved pumpkin and sitting on the lawn watching dad burn leaves.  He wore a black and white plaid peacoat and brown lace up work boots that looked more like army issue that fashionable, utilitarian footwear.

At one point my Mom went back inside and Dad walked back to the garage, out of my sight, to get something.  He wasn’t gone but a minute or two, but I will never forget the feeling of loneliness and abandonment that washed over me, as if some invisible shroud of sadness drifted in and covered me.  Sitting there on the grass between two giant maples, feeling like there was not a soul left in the world. I was two what did I know?  Eventually these feelings would lead to all sorts of nonsense in later years, primarily paralyzing panic attacks that plagued my into adulthood.

I’ve done enough therapy to know where all this comes from and it’s not something I hold on to or get angry about, it’s just an old video tape I can put back on the shelf, realizing that it has no power – that was then, this is now.

This things I do for art’s sake…


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Want To Be Listed Here? – want to be a writer pt2.

Want To Be Listed Here?. – The Literary Syndicate.  Check it out.

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want to be a writer?

this is all you need to know…


August 25, 2013 · 11:43 pm

novel writing, today from the west country in dorset

As I wrote six months ago, I had finally finished the book. Or thought I had.  Some additional changes were suggested that have resulted in vast improvements.  So now I’m shopping it around.  The rejection emails are starting to mount up, which I am thankful for.  At least the agent community has the common decency to respond (well, most of them do).  the everyday business community sucks a dead moose when it comes to common courtesy – all you corporate HR creeps take note, we’d rather hear “you suck’ or “are you kidding me?” rather than nothing al all, which is just egotistically rude.

So anyway, while i’m shopping this i’m starting to write some short stories, a format with which i’ve had the least comfort, but i have a couple ideas…now it’s just getting the best characters.  my immediate reaction is to drag some secondary characters out of the novel and throw them into odd situations.  we’ll see how that pans out.  most writing teachers will tell you to write short stories first then tackle the complexities of a novel.  Right.  Like it’s a surprise I went straight to the novel, bypassing the shorter form.


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