Reading Takes Solitude And It Takes Focus.

I've Just Finished My Next Collection, Possible Side Effects, And I'm Now Working On A Collection Of Holiday Stories As Well As A Memoir About My Relationship With My Father.

I'm Grateful For A Lot Of Things. One Is Not Being A Drunk Wreck. Or Losing All Four Limbs In Some Ridiculous East Village Bus Accident That I Was So Destined For.

I Hate Feelings. Why Does Sobriety Have To Come With Feelings?

Most Everybody Had Made At Least One Bad, Drunken Decision In Their Lives. Called An Ex At Two In The Morning. Or Perhaps Has A Little Too Much To Drink On A Second Date And Wept Inconsolably While Revealing How Simply Damaged One Was, While Nonetheless Retaining An Uncommonly Large Capacity For Love. That Kind Of Thing Was, While Regrettable, At Least Comprehensible. But Waking Up With Someone Generationally Inappropriate, Like Your Grandfather's Best Buddy?

Thanksgiving Was Nothing More Than A Pilgrim-created Obstacle In The Way Of Christmas; A Dead Bird In The Street That Forced A Brief Detour.