Grew up on a steady diet of Anne McCaffrey and Stephen King.
Published in DreamForge Magazine.
A mixture of fiction and insights from the perspective of a writer, business owner, and casino person.
Resistance: The Writer's Greatest Enemy
You know it when you feel it. First you start to feel bored, restless, guilty for no reason. You crawl in your skin. You know there’s something you need to do. But you feel too small, too helpless, too unlovable to do it. Whether you want to write a book or open a business, you feel deep down that you are not worthy of success.
Christiania: City Within a City
Nestled in the center of Denmark, surrounded by an old brick wall covered in graffiti, is the free-town of Christiania. I was fascinated with its history- created in the 1970’s when a group of anarchists, artists, and hippies took over an old military base and proclaimed it separate from Denmark. With blatant disregard for Danish marijuana laws and building colors, it remains it's own thing to this day. I had to see Christiania for myself, so I went in the dead of winter, and walked all 85-acres of the walled city within the city. I’ll tell you the ins-and-outs of this little Freetown and the best place to grab some grub.
Ashes in the Snow
We drove up the snowy, winding road towards the cozy A-frame cabin. The snow was just beginning to fall again, swirling around my rented Honda, building on the windshield before getting swiped away. I looked over at dad, well, his urn, buckled almost humorously into the passenger's seat. Leaving him in the trunk or even the back seat seemed disrespectful. Dad always had to ride up front, directing whoever was driving, and making suggestions despite what the GPS said.
Uncle Dale Can’t Drink
Uncle Dale wasn’t supposed to drink. Even at seven, I knew that. No one had said it to me directly, but the adults had said it to one another— on the phone, in the car, around the dinner table after the kids had been excused and weren't supposed to be listening.
Sitting in DNA Soup
I am sitting in “DNA soup”- actually, a Jacuzzi at the Melia Hotel in Nassau, Bahamas. It might as well be a soup though, from the amount of people sitting in it. I’d wager, that if you were to take a ladle from that hot tub and send it to a DNA testing facility, you’d have genetics from every corner of the planet.
My Duty is My Pride
Soon the road was full of sand. It blew around the pod making tink tink noises as it bounced off the glass doors. Some seasons the sand would cover entire blocks up to your knees. Everyone wore masks or scarfs around their faces and dove into podcars as quickly as possible. The sand was relentless, penetrating every crack, every crevice, every orifice it could find.
My Duty is My Pride
If there was an assignment Kobe hated, it was an arena raid. He wasn’t fond of most of his assignments, actually. But the smell of chemical fires cutting through the warehouse district was especially nauseating. He took one last breath of polluted city air and pulled his visor over his face. His weapon read his thumbprint silently, powered up and hummed as it readied for battle. The night was hot and sticky, causing sweat droplets to course down his back beneath his uniform.