A week or so ago, I talked on the phone with an editor who *might* be interested in acquiring my book, FIREFIGHTER’S KID. It was a good conversation that left me feeling hopeful and cautiously optimistic ( Read more... )

They say that olfactory memories are the strongest. I still clearly remember greeting my father with a hug and kiss when he came home after a shift at the firehouse. I inhaled the smell of smoke and charred wood as I buried my face in his collar, and that smoky smell became intertwined with “love” and “family” forever ( Read more... )

As I revise and think about my current work in progress, FIREFIGHTER’S KID, I’ve pondered the way children perceive their parents’ work lives. Some workplaces are “open societies,” and parents may come home with funny or dramatic stories to relate. My wife is a middle school guidance counselor who always has entertaining tales to tell (with names ( Read more... )

Happy St. Patrick’s Day to friends near and far.

I offer you this Irish soda bread, which I baked yesterday.

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Tomorrow begins the new college semester. I would say “spring semester,” but it certainly doesn’t feel like spring!
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A little bit of Christmas magic was sprinkled upon me yesterday morning. I’m nearly finished with the final revisions of my poetry collection, now named Firefighter’s Kid. But the last poem just wasn’t right! I’ve been wrestling with it for days. I awoke at 5:30 a.m. yesterday, with that nearly-finished poem rattling in my head. And I think I ( Read more... )