Yon Latin says, roughly, “the sweetness from memory” or “sweetness out of memory” in English.
Accordingly, in this little dell in the deep World Wide Web, you’ll see some furtive thoughts creeping out of the woody shadows, as much as possible straight out of my memory. The cat knows when the milk is good; and the reader knows the worth of the words. I make no promises.
As my beautiful wife said years ago, when I started writing as therapy in the middle of a terrifying (some might say losing) bout against brain damage, all you can expect is, “In short, the sad, deluded ravings of a delirious mind…” Just so.
Fair warning! You’ll find few trendy or popular topics here. Despite that, you might come upon something worth your while. I read (and I have read) a lot, (mostly speculative fiction, history, technology, poetry, assorted types of mysteries, and—especially lately—the Bible). You may come across something novel if not exactly edifying. I’m trying to avoid pretentiousness, but as a self-declared writer, I’m quite aware that it’ll happen anyway. Writing definitely ain’t my day job (alas), so despite my effort to aim true, I will probably miss. I miss a lot. I. Miss. All. The. Time.
But still,
I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living!1
Nonetheless. I’m telling you up front that when I grow up, I want to be a writer. There’s some irony in that, because I ought to have grown up long before now. You could probably count the beginning of my attempts at adulting from my enlistment in the U. S. Navy in 1982.
That’s been a while, now.
And why bother? Well. My friend Nancy told me that we make sense of the world by writing, and that’s what makes us writers. In the 1987 comedy Throw Momma from the Train2, Billy Crystal’s character, Larry Donner, explained: “A writer writes, always.” And that’s true: I’m always writing. Another fair warning: My friend Kitty once told me that, while I write good stories, they’re just “not short stories,” so there’s that. I will endeavor not to bore you.
You can contact me if you must.
I suppose the only other thing to say, then, and most of my old friends will understand what I mean, is this:
I am a rock.