Blog

Repeat -> One

A while back I binged a show on HBO called The Leftovers. Loved it. Created by Damon Lindelof, who co-created and wrote much of Lost which I loved, loved, loved. (You didn’t like the Lost...

Bonfire

Not every writer can be Tom Wolfe. Not every writer should be. I mean, what are you supposed to do with all those ridiculous and revelatory exclamations of shock and astonishment? How do you deal...

Group 9

To Jack, Jimmy, Tommy, Trains, and Gus…. Ha! You thought that once the California trip was over you were DONE with me. Wrong. No such luck. See, I like a good wrap-up. A photo album of a great...

Pond Hockey

I got a text from my old hockey buddy Jeff a few days ago saying outdoor hockey was on the agenda for this weekend. (The first cold snap of winter always provides the best ice.) I didn’t put on...

The Story of Johnny Sidney, Police Detective

The Story of Johnny Sidney, Police Detective is a radio play I did as a school project a million years ago. So much of the past gets lost in the blur of Long Ago, but the making of this recording...

Paperback Writer is a Query Letter

Fifty-one years later and now I know. Paperback Writer is a query letter. (I never knew what a query letter was until I started writing them myself in my ongoing quest to get my books published.)...

Hometown Hero

Here is a little cool thing I’m able to do once a year. The company I work for, First Generation, sponsors a moment during Lehigh Valley Phantoms hockey games, when they honor someone who has...

Men In Suits

Men in suits came to the office today. They were in the conference room, with the door closed. Nothing listed on the corporate calendar. Nothing mentioned in the weekly staff meeting. There they...

Lehigh Will Shine

I remember my dad taking my brothers and me to Lehigh University football games on Saturday afternoons back when I was a kid. Taylor Stadium (gone now) might as well have been a coliseum; the grass...

Moonshot

It was Sunday afternoon and I was down at the creek with my brothers goofing off. That’s what you did when it was July, you were eleven years old, and it was 1969. When I think about it today...