It’s pissing down rain in Seattle. The lecherous wind tugs and young women’s skirts as they tick-tock their high-heeled way to work, and the few who bothered with umbrellas wish they’d left them at home. The sky is locked down in gunmetal grey and the sun is a dim memory, consumed by the overhead drear. It’s already been a long work-week for me, having put in three days’ worth before the end of Day Two, and I haven’t slept well for worrying about my family, still roiling from our matriarch’s recent death.
And yet, inside, I’m sunny. (more…)
My wife and I take walks around Seattle’s Green Lake. It’s one of the best parks in the city, and it’s beautiful at any time of the year. It’s a nice 3+ mile circuit, during which we’d talk about many things, quite often about my writing. My wife (my First Reader) is a great sounding-board for plot ideas, plot problems, character development ideas, etc.
In my years here on Earth, I have reached for the brass ring many times. Literally.
A follow-up to my earlier post about 
Kurt R.A. Giambastiani 