The story of my family. . .changes with the teller..

It was a lesson most people learned much earlier; that even friendship could have an undisclosed shelf life. That loyalty and affection, so consuming….

The human heart: its expansions and contractions its electrics and hydraulics the warm tides that move and fill it. For years Art had studied it from….

That renunciation of human closeness, of our deepest instincts: is it, in the end, simply too much to ask? Good men-sound, healthy men-can't make the….

Writing fiction, like reading fiction, is a practice in empathy..

I wanted only a familiar voice, someone who knew me. Not some earlier, larval version of myself. . ..