Meet Mr. Magee

I was a little over 80,000 words into my novel when I came across the curious account of Sylvester Magee. Mr. Magee died in 1971, around the same year that Mr. Sam, one of the characters in my novel, Your Pal Al, died. When writing my story, I had no idea what I was doing or where I was going. Mr. Sam came to life in the bluish glow of the screen, just as Albert did. They came to life together and grew into real people together. Albert is a young, white boy from Florida. Mr. Sam is an old black man from Georgia. Samson is quite literally larger-than-life. And, up until the time that I discovered Sylvester Magee, I thought he was quite old, too. Meet Mr. Magee.

Diane Arbus

Retro photography. I fell for her photography in college in the early 80s. Every picture tells a story, to be sure, but Arbus takes it to another dimension. This photo has inspired many—from Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young's Teach your Children Well to the creation of Bart Simpson. And it has hit me as well. Colin Wood is only seven in the photo, so he is a bit younger than the novel's main character that I have been laboring on for more than ten years. I have been working on the second draft of Your Pal Al. The first was not quite complete and needed a lot of fixes. I hope to be done soon. 

Diane Arbus: Child with Toy Hand Grenade in Central Park, N.Y.C. 1962

“She catches me in a moment of exasperation. It's true, I was exasperated. My parents had divorced, and there was a general feeling of loneliness, a sense of being abandoned. I was just exploding. She saw that and it's like . . . commiseration. She captured the loneliness of everyone. It's all people who want to connect but don't know how to connect. And I think that's how she felt about herself. She felt damaged and she hoped that by wallowing in that feeling, through photography, she could transcend herself.” — Colin Wood

RIP John Prine

I hate this news. Damn that ’Rona!

The Wanderers

On my recent trip to Paris, I had to stop at one of the most iconic bookstores in all the world, Shakespeare and Company. And look at what I saw there—The Wanderers by Chuck Wendig. It's waiting for me at home on my TBR pile. 

 The Remaking is four retellings of one story, held together by the tenuous threads of urban legend. It was a quick read. It grabbed ahold of me and did not let go. 

Some reviewers claim that this is not a horror tale and that it seems to defy characterization. To be fair, The Remaking isn't horror or thriller. It is hard to pin it down. The author does tell a haunted tale, a ghost story held together by the spell of possession. And one is left to wonder if Amber, the protagonist, is the haunted one, or if the story is an indictment of society on a relentless and continuous cannibalistic feeding upon the old and regurgitated lust for having to make all that there is ours. 

At times, the story almost feels repetitive. Almost. Just when it starts to head down a familiar path in the dark, it evolves and twists and changes—the story snaking its way through the past and present. But isn't that something that you would expect of a story titled The Remaking?

*Thank you to Quirk Books and Goodreads for the ARC giveaway.

Coyote Songs – Gabino Iglesias

It has been said that Iglesias’s words cut like a knife. To some, maybe, but only to those who refuse to open their eyes and minds to what he is trying to reveal. Yes, he has carved away the unnecessary words leaving a brutal reality that few in this country know to exist. Like his words on the page, his stories explore worlds and long-held beliefs that are a reality for many.

I went into this book only knowing that it was Barrio Noir, and I wasn’t sure what that was. I had no idea that I would be getting multiple stories tethered to one another by sinew, blood, and magic, so I felt a bit lost when the first chapter ended. I wanted to know more about Pedrito and his father and hear more about the monstrous fish they were hunting. I found several Aligator Gar carcasses on the shores of the St. Johns as a kid growing up. I imagine that they are the most monstrous fish swimming in those waters. They are armored with a most formidable suit of preservation. So tough that the original peoples of this land used them as arrow points. You might need both if you dare read this in the dark of night. But, I digress. I did get more story, and then some. These stories will get under your skin and haunt your dreams. They should also haunt your reality because they are as old and as new as it gets in this country.

** UPDATE **
While reading Coyote Songs, I have had to keep my Irish mojo with me to hold all the vengeful spirits at bay from la Frontera.