I’m not a religious man. On the contrary, I think organized religion is responsible for most of the world’s problems, large and small, past and present. That’s not an original thought by any means, but it feels good to get it off my chest and on the record. That being said, I try to live…

I may be the last Beatles fan in the world to have seen Peter Jackson’s groundbreaking Get Back documentary. At eight hours, I wanted to view it in two or three satisfying chunks, rather than losing the impact in dribs and drabs. But life kept getting in the way. Finally, I got so tired of…

As an author, I belong to a number of online forums for writers of all stages of development, from newbies to seasoned pros. From time to time, someone posts a question I feel compelled to answer. Here’s the latest: “How do you think of people who criticize your work? Would it be healthy to think…

A business associate killed himself not long ago. He used a gun, which means it was more than a cry for help. I had seen him at a professional conference two months before and all seemed fine. We had a pleasant conversation and I even complimented him on the PowerPoint he had developed for his…

Saying that something is “nondescript” is still a description. A bad one. A cheat. No matter how plain, unremarkable and downright boring something is, it still deserves a few words. You can do better.  

I have an annoying tendency of turning hobbies into work. My book stack torments me. My guitar mocks me. Even my DVR list badgers me into binging. “Just one more,” it whispers in a conspiratorial tone. “Your wife won’t be home for hours.” Back when I played fantasy football — for 17 seasons, no less…

The best part of being a writer is that everything is material. It’s also the worst part. I can recall getting in an argument with my wife, a real doozy that (thankfully) happens only once a decade or so. In the middle of a particularly nasty exchange, part of my brain disassociated and started commenting,…

BC (before COVID), I found myself in Reno as a presenter at their annual Literary Crawl event. On the way back to my hotel room, I shared an elevator with an older gentleman who looked like Father Time if Father Time chewed tobacco. “Whatcha got there?” he growled as the door clanked shut. “This? A…

I almost never offer unsolicited advice — unless it’s of the “Don’t step off the curb, there’s a bus coming” variety. Solicited advice is another matter entirely and I’m honored when the occasional writer asks for my opinion. Here’s one that came to me recently from a fellow scribe: “I have a question that I…

We said our final goodbyes to Daisy the cat yesterday. Daisy was 19-years-old, an “antique” according to our vet and, until recently, in remarkably good health. In her prime, she could scale an eight-foot bookcase in a single bound or balance herself on top of an open door better than any Olympic gymnast. Daisy was…