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When I was eighteen years old, I met the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. He was about 6’2, caramel colored skin, in his early twenties and, a body to die for, that man was hot. It was summer so he always wore a short sleeve shirt tight enough to show off his bulging pecks. I used to see him stepping out of his Royal Blue, 66 Buick Skylark around the same time every...
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Revisit the Wind
Over the past twenty-four hour period, a cold front swept across the mid-Atlantic seaboard, accompanied by a return to the daunting winds of a couple of weeks ago. Along with the formidable wind activity, was a correspondingly turbulent upheaval of t...
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IT FINALLY HAPPENED!
I have a publishing contract for my second novel, FOR LOVE OF TEDDY. This is a young adult novel about teenage brothers who take on drug dealers. It's timely, it's provocative, it's inspiring. It won't be coming out until the end of the year, but ...
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"If Bukowski was my bartender"
I'd bend his ear with the smear of my lipstick
then stick my stir in gin's makeshift moment
ask him why he thought he had to live with
such intensity, bent on being more than a
poet, more than the thinker that he would
not admit ...
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Change and the Rational Mind
Our yesterdays and tomorrows, our hopes and fears, and all the sequences
of our individual and specific lives are merged into one another and
combined to form part of the whole humanity. The measure of one's life
is not made at the end, b...
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Books Don't Write Themselves
Writing is work. Make no mistake about it. Being published is a business. Absolutely, make no mistake about that. Unfortunately, the goal of a writer is not only to be published, but to be able to make a living by being published.Unless you are wealt...
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