I am almost ashamed to post any message here. I’ve been MIA for quite a while, swallowed up by real life. What’s interesting is that it’s the same old story. I can crank out words pretty fast, and don’t need a lot of free time to do so. But there is a No Vacancy sign … More Hello? Hellllllooooooooo???
The monthly church board meeting started without any undue fanfare, the most unusual thing being the location where they met. Two dozen others sat on wooden chairs arranged facing a small platform, where a tall, thin man in bib overalls stood facing them behind a simple podium. Brother Andrew banged his wooden hammer and called … More “A Single Drop of Blood”
People used to ask me how I ended up in Wickliff. Years ago, it used to be a little Podunk town just downstream from Cairo, Illinois. Not much came through there. Most of the rail and freeway traffic was on the northside of the Ohio or the west side of the Mississippi. And the only … More “Infinity’s Reach”
One of my students and writing colleagues brought up the age-old question the other day that many Christian writers struggle with: What to do about writing swear words? I have had some professional colleagues tell me, there is NEVER an excuse for including swear words in your writing, no matter what. I know of other … More Profanity, Obscenity and Indecency
“Never Say Die” The ballroom at the Top of the Mark was filled with the romantic sound of Artie Shaw and his big band playing “Begin the Beguine.” It was pretty busy for a Thursday night, and the manager watched as waiters were kept busy filling and refilling drinks among all the tables. Next week … More “Never Say Die”
I’ve said many times before that, in the end, writing is nothing but mind games. You psych yourself into writing a story, even though you don’t think you’re good enough. You push yourself to write, even though you think you don’t have time, or motivation, or creative energy. You convince yourself that your okay story … More Mind Games part six
(This is a free-verse poem I discovered today, written by me not long after my mother died.) WHAT REMAINS A wooden nailbox, obviously handmade stands ready to work On the floor of my garage beside the workbench. It still displays black electrician’s tape To reinforce cracked wood and shelter hands From slivers of … More What Remains
I think I’ve probably written about 18 book manuscripts over the years, and had eight of them published. That’s a lot of misses among those hits. And that’s one of the downsides of learning by doing; sometimes you do, and you learn that what you did doesn’t work. At least for someone else. But one … More The First Chapter
The book–excuse me, books–is/are finished. Of course, I’m only talking rough drafts. I still have a mountain of work ahead of me that I can’t even conceive of at this point, nor do I want to. But the framework for the three-part books Champion series–The Champion, The Heretic, and Elijah–is complete. Am I satisfied with … More The Day After
I never really thought I was crazy. That’s despite the fact that a panel of three psychiatrists, a judge and jury of my peers, and an ongoing evaluation by a state-certified mental institution said that I was. Three years in the Hillsboro Institute for the Criminally Insane was like thirty years anywhere else. Screaming at … More “Crazy Man”
