Sometime back just before Christmas I saw an article about Henry Miller’s Tropic of Cancer. The article made me curious about what exactly made this book so great. I remember my college professors pushing “masterpieces” down our collective throats.
Tag Archives: Writing
A Knight Crime
Johnny Knight had a serious drug habit. A habit so bad it cost him his acting career. Twelve years after he starred in a successful television comedy, he presumably had his life turned around.
Roads From Tennessee: Final Day
He appeared happy and thanked me. I then gave Terry, Greg’s wife a hug and went to the pickup, threw my suitcase and laptop inside and we were off to Memphis to fly back to Spokane. The road trip back was …
Roads From Tennessee: Day 6
It’s a Baptist church in Corinth, Mississippi. It’s a large building that Greg informed me could hold well over a thousand worshippers. We parked nearby and Terry got onto a wheelchair that Greg provided her from the back area of the Kia SUV she had bought a while back.
Book Review
In Schellhammer’s novel, an elderly serial killer chronicles an alarming string of murders he’s committed over the course of decades.
Crapped Out
Bob had no idea what town this was that they stopped in front of a building whose lights and neon flashed and buzzed like a swarm of bees. He looked at the site, staring at it, willing it to disappear as snow fell steadily. The sign showing “Treasure Island Resort and Casino” appeared like a siren call.
Night Fear: Part 2
“I guess, what kind of game, Xanadu?” “I ask you a question about yourself, and you answer truthfully. Then you do the same, ask me a question and I answer truthfully.” The thought of this both intrigued and frightened me.
Roads From Tennessee
To start with, people in Tennessee talk funny. It’s also contagious. I had a heck of a time returning back to my normal accent. It must’ve been three days before I stopped combining you and all. My bestie had wanted, no begged me to go and visit his place down in Savannah, a mostly rural community.
Night Fear: Part 1
An angry storm spit rain and wind whipped the trees about. I looked from the comfort of my warm house and hoped the power would return soon. In an instant I saw the lightning crack and the thunder clap so loud I jumped a foot from the wood floor.
Once Was Lost
Bob couldn’t remember the last time he ate. He also didn’t remember the last time he slept. Though he stayed in the hotel suite, he was fed mostly meth and bath salts, turning, and merging his hallucinations with reality to where he didn’t recognize what was real and what was a fantasy created inside his head.
Jerry Schellhammer 