The story of a little girl, a dance recital and two loose front teeth.
What can I say – ? we’re not campers.
I’m really good at what I do, but I’m not a businessperson. I’m a writer. That’s the only control I have. It’s my only way out.
The last day of school is something all kids remember. Grown ups, not so much.
Reaching backwards is hard. I recently started writing a book called Four Fathers, based (loosely in some spots, tightly in others) on the four men that influenced the man I am today. They are my biological father, to whom I was Junior; my step father, who gave me a new name; my wife’s father, who disappeared after her conception; and my wife’s stepfather, who gave her a new name. In writing the first chapter, I noticed that I couldn’t just…
As the father of two daughters, and their only male influence in life, there are times when I feel like I’ve got to just come right out and give it to them straight. That those who are bloodthirstier, eat better. That this can’t be all fun and games. That life is hard. My daughters disagree.
