So my great uncle was, I think, 19 (let’s say 19) and stationed in England as a private in the US Army on the eve of the Normandy invasion. And he was scared out of his wits. So much so, he placed a call to his oldest brother, my grandfather, and confessed he was thinkingContinue reading “Memorial Day”
What I feel – or, more accurately, fail to feel about this latest shooting – is the result of residual trauma that’s become an ambient, barely perceptible distorted noise in the back of every American’s head.
There are people, and you’ve likely met some of them, hell, some of you may even be some of them, who are, and there’s simply no polite way of saying it, organized. You know the type. The types who always take out the correct recycling on the right night. Who never misplace their car keysContinue reading “Trying to Get Organized”
It’s Not Rocket Science, Although Given My Utter Ignorance of Rocket Science, Maybe Part of It Is But I doubt it. I recently tweeted something on the Twitter machine – a silly, mildly amusing tweet that said, “I have never been in any way harassed or demeaned by Scott Rudin; this isn’t meant to condoneContinue reading “On Punching Up”
“Writer’s Block” implies to me that I’m driving along and I’ve hit a wall. It feels somehow visceral and violent. That’s different from simply getting stuck because you’ve run out of gas. One’s a collision, the other’s a petering out. One is a – you get the point.
I had my birthday this week – I had been putting it off for a while now – which means I turned 53. And so I got to thinking, “What, if anything, do I feel I can honestly say I’ve learned in this half century and change? Here’s what I’ve come up with, and nowContinue reading “What I Think I’ve Learned So Far, Though I Don’t Always Act Like I Have”
Writing a new type of fiction after you’ve dedicated years honing another might be the bast thing for you, although maybe not your reader
You’re invited to a special reading of a new play by Jack Canfora, A VICIOUS CIRCLE. The reading, on April 11th at 1:00 and 6:00 at Open Jar Studios, (1601 Broadway, between 48th and 49th, 11th floor, Studio 12J), is a simultaneously laugh-out-loud and soul-wrenching drama about Dorothy Parker, Robert Benchley and the trauma, loneliness,Continue reading “Come See My Reading on April 11th!”
We have to learn that evil doesn’t equal irrational, or we’ll be miscalculating the way Putin thinks
Yesterday, I stepped out the door of my childhood home for the final time. I moved there in early 1978 (I distinctly recall thinking at the time how long ago that was), and apart from a 14 month sojourn in London, stayed there through the early 1990s, apart from when I was away at college.Continue reading “You Can’t Go Home Again (The Packing Alone Will Stop You)”