One does not have be a combat soldier, or visit a refugee camp in Syria or the Congo to encounter trauma.
An old man, his arm around a woman, smiles from a photograph at the top of my computer screen.
The boy gasped for breath, hair in his mouth, before the next wave slammed him back against the bottom. He tumbled, the fizz of bubbles around him.
Business. Read the textbooks and you’re in no doubt that it’s a sensible career of deep dullness.
The stranger got into position under the streetlight at eleven p.m., as agreed.
MY NOVEL TURTLES ALL THE WAY DOWN was published in October of 2017, and after spending that month on tour for the book, I came home to Indianapolis and blazed a trail between my children’s tree house and the little room where my wife and I often work
“WHY ARE WE HERE AGAIN?” MASTER SERGEANT CARY MARKS SAID, SHIFTING HIS weight for what seemed like the hundredth time.
Voices seep into my consciousness, gentle as osmosis. They heave me slowly out of darkness like dragging a buoy from unfathomable depths.
Before there were books, there were stories. at first the stories weren’t written down.
How’s your birth order knowledge? Pretty good I suspect.
It would be easy not to notice him. Just a small thing. Dappled with dried bracken and dirt.
A board a Night Stalkers Special Operations MH-60M Black Hawk helicopter code-named Spear One, Navy chief Nick Zeppos of SEAL Team Six checks his watch.
For generations, my family has made its living cutting down forests. Our survival has depended on this humble trade.
Happenstance had me born on 30 September 1946 – the very day of the judgment at Nuremberg
The inner journey through an uncharted landscape can be fraught with contradictions of thought, emotion, experience, and action.