Me In Brief(s)
I was in born in New York City and raised outside of Washington, D.C. near Arlington National Cemetery. After graduating from Amherst College with a BA cum laude in English and a heavy concentration in French and philosophy, I served in the Peace Corps in Tunisia, in North Africa. Later I came to New York, where I have lived ever since.
For several years I subsisted on sundry day and night jobs—cab driver, dishwasher, ESL teacher, salesman of second-hand clothes, old furs, and new sneakers— while I wrote and performed rock, reggae and soul songs for my rock band. Later. I earned an MA and taught English, writing and interdisciplinary studies at various universities. After more than a decade of teaching, I became an
advertising copywriter. specializing in drugs and devices.
Throughout my checkered existence writing has been the one constant: I have
been a committed and versatile writer of novels, short fiction, essays, journalism,
art criticism, poetry, screenplays, and teleplays (although my results might not
pay off that commitment). My prose has been published in The Village
Voice,Newsday, Art News, The Albuquerque Journal, and Art Speak, while my
poetry has been printed in Poetry Digest, the Literary Review, Factions, and the
Star.
Announcements
It is August, 2008. I always wondered what it would feel like to live during an economic depression. This year has given me an idea. No, we are not destitute, but business is bad and it seems to be bad in so many ways for so many industries and people that one does not know when or if it will ever end. Worse than the current conditions and concerns is a sense of haplessness and confusion. There are so many sound reasons for the economic debacle: too much public and private debt, huge bank losses due to the sub-prime fiasco, high energy costs, higher prices for everything, rising unemployment and inflation, and tough credit--that no one knows where to start to rectify the situation--or if it can be rectified.
Fortunately, I have been swimming for much of 2008, It offers no escape from circumstances, but after an hour of swimming, I don't care so much about them.
I have also been working steadily on my new novel and recently completed the first draft. Now I am revising it. It is slow-going, painful, but necessary work. Writing a first draft can be hard because something must be created out of nothing, It demands energy and relies on inspiration--neither of which is abundant. But after a good day of writing from scratch you feel great.
Editing never feels good, regardless how well it goes because editing does not confirm or celebrate the spirit; it finds weakness and flaws. Editing puts your technique and judgement in question. At times, I cannot help but ask myself how I could possibly have believed that what I wrote was good enough to move on.
But after sifting and shifting the words repeatedly until they look and sound just right, I feel confident--but tired. And worried. If I had to spend so much time on the last chapter, what can I expect from the next one?