Many summers ago, I went to a church picnic at Rowlette Park in Tampa. I was about thirteen or so. We played softball while the burgers and dogs were cooking. I was a pretty good baseball player and played little league throughout my youth. I wasn’t a pitcher, but a first baseman and centerfielder. I played catcher once when Robbie Ochs was sick, but didn’t … Continue reading Duck
I don’t often listen to music while I write. I find it distracting. It isn’t that I don’t like music, indeed, I love music and have rather eclectic tastes. I enjoy most genres. My music of choice while writing though, is silence. Silence has its own sound. The sound of the story taking shape in my mind. When I write and enter “the zone,” I … Continue reading Writing Music, or, Music to Write By
When we moved into our new home on Trilby Avenue in Tampa in 1967, after living in Holland for three years, I thought we would stay there a while. But we only lived in that house for two months before packing up and moving to a brand new house in northeast Tampa. One day, I knocked a clapboard off the side of the house while … Continue reading Turkey In The Straw
Writers Envy 