And no, I’m not talking about the card game my wife can find with a click of her mouse, I’m talking about the more literal meaning of the word, as in building a bridge to other people. They’ve all been built, you say, but they haven’t, not completely, even with Facebook, Twitter, and all that instant texting from IPhones. What’s missing is...
READ MOREOf a young man trying to figure things out. In this first scene, the whereabouts of his sales commission. Told in the first person, his story is one of desperation, which like a newly planted seed, grows: “What’s it say!” I yelled, trying to fight my way through. Jimmy at the front, smack against the building, his face practically on the square of paper. From...
READ MOREFor the past year I’ve been writing a novel in Houston, where I’ve lived since ’73. A fictional memoir, a first for me, also the first first person story I’ve told. The time period is the eighties and nineties. But now, 2011, when the news we’ve been hearing from Japan is so horrific, it’s hard not to think, to empathize, to wonder,...
READ MOREMy wife and I flew to California over the weekend to see my son, Ran. Besides being an audience coordinator of “The Talk,” he designed the cover of my novel After Isaactown. Flying in we saw snow on the mountains. A gorgeous spring day followed at Malibu where we stopped for lunch. A movie star sighting, Kate Hudson with small child at her side, another...
READ MORE“Warm Nights, Cold Noses,” the title of an article in the Times caught my eye when I saw on the cover of the Home Section a bed on which a woman lay, her unruly hair spread on the pillow. Less noticeable at this first glance was the thing cradled in her arms. The reporter explained: “Every night for the last year, Kathy Ruttenberg has been taking a bath, putting on...
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The life of a young man, John Howard, at times heroic, at times comic,a person who tries, in the small ways he can, to make his life better.
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