Who would I be if I forgot the teacher who coaxed me past my math phobia, or the time my boss bailed me out and then reamed me out after I got a client into a disastrous investment, or the glowing loveliness of my wife Jane on our wedding day? Memory
Gonna to Texas
Hey y’all, Getting into that Texas spirit!! Just itching to climb into those cowboy boots and hitch up these Texas-size britches for a spell. I’ve put in an order at the airport’s rent-a-gun store for a Glock and holster. The wife says it makes
The Garage Door: A Story
That afternoon, we had our cab driver let us out at the driveway to our apartment building’s underground garage. “Why is the garage door opening?” Alison said, as she got out. Her voice was muffled by her mask, a murkiness I’d never grown used to
Righting the Wrong Word
A few months ago, drafting my response to a questionnaire in advance of an upcoming interview in connection with Caroline, I wrote the phrase “fiction’s ghetto.” Here’s the question and my original answer: Q: Do you have a target reader? A:
Bacon Jam
Could any food name excite more disgust? Yet bacon jam is what my friend and neighbor turned up with at my door three weeks ago. He said it was “amazing,” but he’s always saying something or someone is amazing. If they’re not amazing, they’re
Project Bloom
Project Bloom is a new anthology of essays and poems written by people who experienced the pandemic. Lisa M. Alexander and Joshua Potter-Efron, the editors, have drawn on works by a variety of people whose names are hardly household, mine included.