Here's a novel and a bunch of short stories. Last Call was my second, written mostly in Maine, bookended by my Brooklyn pads. So 1999-2001. My first novel is a lovely deformed mess called Stillwell Memorial that I've torn up three times now and still can't get right. Last Call is a mess, too, in its own way. But I still love it, if only because I think it's the most well-thought out thing I've managed to put on paper. If anyone actually manages to read the thing I'd love to know what you thought of it.
There's really been no fiction to speak of since late 2001. After it became clear to me that I simply didn't have the focus to go through the process of trying to seriously shop Last Call around, much less try and write my third, War's End, which I projected was going to be around 600-700 pages, I turned once again to music and once again it saved my life.
The fates of Stillwell Memorial and War's End, the novel I got about thirty pages into after finishing Last Call, are part of the point.
SHORT STORIES
Part One: An All America City
Part Two: Symmetry
Part Three: Criss-Cross
Part Four: Division Street
Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen
Live From the Cutting Room Floor
This is, I think, my best short story. It came from nowhere, and I don't really remember writing it (it had to be either right before or right after Nolan and I went to Maine) 2000
I'm sorry Shannon, I have to leave this up. 1999
Another good one. I wrote this in Portland. 2001
A love letter to my then girlfriend, Diana. 1999
I'm glad this one survived. I worked on it for about a month but I was never really able to slip back into the narrator's weird voice after the first few times. 1999
read the start of War's End
