On a secluded mountain lake, a silent, cool morning, I am compelled by reality’s transient and illusory nature. The simultaneous coexistence of two states: the object and its mirrored image. The reflection is and is not reality. Both conditions feel true. Like our own reflections in the mirror: it’s us but not us. The two worlds feel equally real, equally important. And so I pay close...
We’re in Snyder’s Shoes in Manistee along the shore of Lake Michigan, where we vacationed with the family for many years when the kids were young and spent a week with Harriet’s sister. The two photos (taken 15 years apart) were an annual tradition. We posed with a statue of the tallest man who ever lived. Robert Wadlow stood 8 ft. 11 inches and survived until only age 22, dying in 1940. He...
My head is in the clouds and I’m in daydreaming mode, for how long I cannot tell, but worry not, I’m not delusional or illogical or unaware of what’s going on. In fact I’m all too aware, and my head in the clouds at least means I’m looking up, so there’s that. Give me the towering gray nimbus or the distant hazy puffs or the cirrus whisps. I’m not an uninterrupted blue sky kind of guy. I...
Even the blank page gets in on the fun. Write here, one says. No, start on me, entices another. Fickle pages, how they flirt, each desiring to be the chosen one, to have their lines sown with inky words. I can’t decide. I’ll let the wind choose: whichever way it blows me, that’s the way I’ll go.
Who doesn’t want a hot read for a hot summer? My fifth novel, THE SUITOR, is available starting today. Get your copy on Amazon—paper or eBook—and more copies for your friends and family. And if you’re feeling generous, write an Amazon review of the book. Thank you—and I hope your summer is off to a sizzling start. Get THE SUITOR here.
Dear Readers: My newest novel, THE SUITOR, will be published next week, June 20, and available on Amazon in eBook or print format. I know that’s only six days away, but you probably can’t wait, so here’s a link to the first chapter. What’s this story about, you ask? Here’s the logline: When a recent college graduate suddenly falls in love with an ambitious schemer...
This time of year when the trees leaf out I remember the American elm in front of my house when I was a kid. Its limbs flared toward the sky like an elegant vase, the branches and leaves spreading a canopy as wide as the tree’s height. The flat, egg-shaped seeds covered our sidewalk and driveway. Then Dutch elm disease made its way to Buffalo, and the elms lining our street withered and the city...
Day after day I get preoccupied with petty concerns, and then a shift in the light has a way of nudging me to get out of my head and look up from my desk because there’s something I should see right outside my window, it will last for but a few moments in a world that keeps turning, so take a break and experience the wonder, then go back to your little problems if you must.
April 20 (4/20) is weed day. The day got its name in the 1970s in California when a group of high school students met after school around 4:20 to get high and 4/20 became a code phrase they could use in front of their parents. Clever stoner types, these high school kids. The reputation of 4/20 spread from there. 420 Magazine, founded in 1993, has a mission around creating cannabis awareness. I...
Three straight days of incessant rain and I’ve decided if there is a fourth I will have to consider building an ark. But the fourth day dawns in a shroud of fog and later in the morning the sun melts the mist away and the garden pops before my eyes. The daffodils debut and the one good hyacinth bursts in purple perfume, the vinca open their periwinkle blooms on a backdrop of green, and the...
Dear Readers: For those of you who have been anxiously awaiting my next book, you will soon be rewarded! THE SUITOR will be published in May just in time for you to have a great summer read. I’m pleased to share the cover with you today. Every good story answers a key question. THE SUITOR: What does a father do when he vehemently opposes the young man his daughter is determined to marry...
First the freezing rain fell and the world turned to glass until the temperature climbed just enough and the ice became rain, just rain, torrential and unrelenting for hour upon hour under heavy iron skies until the thermometer dropped back down and the rain froze again and the snow soon followed with jaw-dropping ambition, the inches quickly piling up, nature flexing its heavy muscles, and then...
March in the Northeast mountains is known as mud season: melting snow, heavy streams, mashed potato mud, and stretches of hardened ice on the trails. Everyone says stay away. But we couldn’t. The day was too beautiful. Hunter Mountain is the second tallest peak in the Catskills, but it’s easily accessible by hiking a trail up the backside of the mountain. We were prepared for mud...
It was an inappropriate kiss. No, inappropriate implies an error in judgment, but also could mean an oblivious choice. She was definitely not oblivious. She knew exactly what she was doing. A forbidden kiss. That sounds mysterious and foreboding, promising trouble to come. But no, forbidden smacks of rules and regulations. It implies secrecy. This was a kiss out in the open that we all saw happen...
I’d never seen this photo until my sister sent it to me. Canada, summer, cottage life. Of course I looked down when someone was taking my photo. I’m guessing I’m around seven years old. My parents are in the background over my right shoulder. If I was seven, my mom was forty-one. She looks so exotic to me in this photo, like a movie star all in white with her sunglasses and...
