The poet/artist portrays the world in vivid colors while accepting the ambiguities of ethics and morality and using figurative language that plays to the imagination and encourages flights of fancy and utopian dreams – all done with good intention.
I’ve long believed the true measure of a person is taken by the quality of those s/he can rightly call “friends.” And if I’m correct, the friendship of Del Culver, Seth Benner, John Cornell, and Pat Adkins render me one of the most fortunate of souls.
Words represent our most effective means of making sense of the world and of communicating a shared understanding of virtue, righteousness, morality, honor, etc. – and their unsavory opposites – to one another and especially our children.
Anyone who can read can read the letters that form the words and the words that form the sentences and sentences that form the paragraphs and the paragraphs that form the chapters and the chapters that form the novel, but only a true reader can read in the white space between the lines and the hidden spaces beneath them. It is in those wordless spaces that the treasure that is the meaning and purpose of a novel is often found.
Because no other media outlet has requested an interview with me since the release of my latest novel, Island No. 6, I decided to interview myself and to ask the types of questions that actually interest me rather than the typically banal ones interviewer’s tend to ask.
In other words, leave the low-hanging, easily attainable fruit for the lazy others, and reach for the unattainable. In so doing, even if we fall short of our goal, we’re all likely to do and be more than we ever imagined possible.
There are only two sorts of people who expect life to be fair: children and fools.
Going forward, I hope to exercise my rage according to Aristotle’s standards, directed to the right person, in the right degree, at the right time, and for the right purpose.
With Halloween and Dia de los Muertos just around the corner, I thought I’d share an excerpt from my second novel, Goodness Falls, the climax for which occurs on The Day of the Dead (Nov. 2nd).
Last night, I dreamed of nuns marching.