Fiction & Essays

Just doing some more tinkering. I can’t just have a placeholder that says “this is something that goes here.”

The website is really one big hat rack, where I hang up the hats of the normal world and put on the hats of the writer. Each parent page is a different hat as well. And here we are at my much self-maligned fiction, the other stories, the “what-if’s” and “what could be’s.” Here are my orphans, that I have never found a home for.

When it comes to my writing, particularly my fiction, I call myself a successful failure. In life, I have attained a moderate degree of success. In writing, I am an utter failure. No, it’s true. This is not one of those times where I am beating myself up. Hey, I failed. You cannot find any of these stories in published magazines. I even know why.

Being a writer is about writing. Being a professional published writer has very little to do with writing. It is about the business side of things, the research and reading and query letters and networking and rewrites and all of those time consuming tasks that are not very much fun. That’s the part I failed miserably at. But you can read more about my successful failure in Coffee Chronicles.

This part of my website will be my orphanage. Here is where I will gather my lost children together and give them a home. I’ll start with the two I am actively trying to place right now–if I can find the time for the research and reading and queries and contacts


How many heart beats do we have left?

A Touch of Madness

The blues ain’t nothing but a good man feeling down. Or is it?

Autumn’s First Kiss

The line between fiction and non fiction gets blurry here. Very blury. Like the shimmering of heat waves on the streets of Miami mid-summer.

And yes, I’ll be touching this all up once the graphic designer helps me figure out what is going on here.

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