I lifted the cat and hugged her. Even though she’s shit on our bedroom floor and I stepped in it twice. Barefoot. Once, as I clomped my way to the john in the dark. Bladder so full of vodka, Sprite, and water that I thought I’d never go back to bed. The other, a weird … More the never end
Not many men write at night. After wives and kids have gone to bed. Those that do, I suspect, have pain. Or boundless energy. Or are so narcissistic that they don’t know any better. Dan Rather says, somewhere in his new book—and I’m paraphrasing here—that we shouldn’t feel sorry for people. Instead, we need to … More the mightiest of wolves
A man stands outside in pajama pants and a hoodie, while the yellow dog sniffs undisturbed snow under the weighty boughs of the sleeping evergreens. And the fuzzy stars shine. Stuck in the middle of fading in, or fading out, and it’s another night of unsettling silence in a Michigan winter that shows no sign … More last day of February
Nearly 10 years ago, I wrote a book called Pilgrim’s Bay. I worked my ass off on it because I loved the characters as if they were real people in my life. Always, it was as if they were waiting for me to come around to visit and listen and remember their story so that … More Black
I want to write what we feel. For the millions. I want to talk about writing, analyze life, and be known as the best. I want you and you and you to read my blog. To buy my books. Post on my wall. I want to receive your questions, comments, and concerns. I want you … More Bullshit, as Grandma would say.