Author of six novels, twelve screenplays and numerous short scripts. Two decades as a professional writer, creating TV/radio spots for niche companies (Paul Prudhomme, Wolverine Boots) up to major corporations (Citibank, The TBS Network).
"The Last Ride of the Deathmobile"
Despite what you may believe, the following story is completely true. It happened just as I describe it here. And as the subtitle explains, the event nearly led to my death, or at the very least, certainly lengthy hospital recuperation combined with many thousands of dollars of facial reconstruction.
“Not My Home”
I once held the belief that my home was eternal. It stood like a castle, a refuge without equal. As a child, it was the largest, most impressive of buildings,
"Not Your Average Job"
I love my job because, at the end of each day, I know I’m still alive. And that puts all other jobs to shame. When an average person gets up to go to work, they lay out their clothes, maybe take a shower and spend some time in front of the mirror, have a bowl of cereal alongside toast and juice, gather the items they’ll need for work, and kiss their family goodbye.
"The Lessons of the Pair Tree"
A young Boy wandered away from his home, and his chores, one clear sunny morning. The warming Day whispered to him and implored him, saying, “Come and explore the distant lands with me, and I promise you an adventure worthy of any punishment your Elders might inflict for such a dalliance.”
The four rose early that wintery Christmas morning. Daniel had slept downstairs on one of the oversized couches, whiles his three teenage children slept around him on the floor, in a mix of sleeping bags, extra couch cushions, and quilts. Daniel’s old St. Bernard, Clairveau, acted as pillow for Laney, his youngest, while his older son Caleb vied with the dog for the loudest snore. Jenny, the in-between daughter, was the earliest to rise, and simply hugged her dad until he stumbled to his feet.
Air Force Staff Sergeant Gerald Wilkins marched stiffly into Kirtland Air Base Debriefing Room A-113, empty but for a single metal table and three equally uncompromising metal chairs. The base had been upgraded the previous year, 1947, with funds left over from a World War II allocation, but comfort didn’t seem to be a priority during the upgrade.
“Something About a Toreador”
The door to the recording studio flew open with a crash. In strode Hollywood icon, YouTube influencer and mega-rich actor Slush Funned, followed by a swirling cacophony of hangers-on, distant relatives, and not-worth-their-weight-in-goldfish assistants, each trying to catch the Slusher’s ear with some detail or update significant only to them.
"The Wisdom of a Simpler Life"
I focused on the flowers in the flowerbox, ignoring the screaming and yelling of the young couple inside, behind the heavy sliding glass doors that separated me from them, that separated the sunbaked balcony where I sat from the minimally cooler apartment where they wrangled, that separated me and the silent flowers that were my stoic companions from the constant stream of venom and barely controlled rage leaking out from inside.