I’m a retired English and drama teacher and school administrator.

    I help people author and edit everything from novels to resumes--articles, website copy, advertising copy, and more.

       I’ve had two musical dramas (authored book and lyrics, not the music) produced non-professionally.

(See the WRITING page for samples.)

     An historical novel, The Maxwell Vendetta,set in early twentieth century northern California, is currently making the rounds of agents and publishers, and I am in the midst of a financial thriller. A number of smaller works are likewise beating the postal and electronic pavements.   

   

     I live with my wife in Oakland, CA, where I enjoy the blessings of nearby children and grandchildren.

MEMORABLE SCENE

    Nanapush then rose from the [funereal] bed and walked among the people, tendering greetings and messages from their dead loved ones. At last, however, he came to Margaret, who sat in the corner frozen in shock at her husband’s resurrection. “Oh, how I missed my old lady!” he cried and opened his arms to her. But just as she started forward, eager at his forgiveness and acceptance, he remembered the beans, dropped his arms, and stepped back.

    “No matter how I love you,” he then said, “I would rather go to the spirit world than stay here and eat your cooking.”

            --Louise Erdrich, The Last Report on the Miracles at Little No Horse

Memorable Openings

   Being Stone Dead was a handicap which the boy managed, with commendable gallantry, to surmount.

--Salman Rushdie Shame

The gun jammed on the last shot and the baby stood holding the crib rail, eyes wild, bawling.

--Louise Erdrich, Plague of Doves

    My father ... had christened in the church ... two children: a daughter who married Pierre Herison, executioner, and a son, myself. After my mother’s death, he remarried, his second wife from a family of executioners ... Together, they produced twelve children ... six of whom were boys. All six eventually registered in the public rolls as executioners.

--Jim Shepard ”Sans Farine”

THE SCOOP ON WRITER WORKING