Book Promotion
Saturday in America
February 7, 2017

Cover Art

More than 20 years ago in Midlothian, IL, I picked up the newspaper and started reading it to my grandparents. My Papa was shocked and my Granny said, “See Jim, some kids read, even if her father never did.”

Ever since I could read, I would write. Often I don’t have a lot to say in person (when I’m not drinking) I have always preferred to put pen to paper. I prefer it to texting, typing, recording, there is no more satisfying form of expression than ink to page and writing has been an integral part of my life, it is the most important thing that I do.

Writers have a responsibility to record the past, forecast the future, and encapsulate the present into a series of sentences for others to read and analyze and agree and disagree. I am fortunate that I have been able to work in writing, but it is not just a job for me it is my civic duty. Like how it’s my brother’s duty to defend the country, my father’s to police it, and my mother’s to bake for it, it is my purpose to write about us, our people and our stories, the experiences that comprise the eternal human narrative.

This is the story about a privileged white boy who wanted to be a drug dealer. This is the story about what’s happening in Florida and in Georgia and all over the country. This is the story about a family that pretended everything was fine while they destroyed everything they touched. This story is fiction but this struggle is true.

Please pre-order my first ebook Saturday in America on If you do not have a Kindle, you can download the Kindle App for free on your phone and read it there. Thank you for your support.

We Live Where You Vacation
October 6, 2014
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It came to me as a bleak realization that I had not traveled more than 150 miles outside of my “hometown” over the course of a calendar year.


Growing up, I did everything I was supposed to do. I followed the traditional steps to success verbatim.  Attending college, accruing debt, aggressively job searching, settling for any type of salary to start paying off that debt and then 5 years after my high school graduation I found myself right back where I started, living 23.4 miles away from where I went to school.

I had subconsciously always thought that my path in life would be obvious, that at some point I would find a cosmic compass to tell me what to do, that pointed me in my destined direction. Or maybe in the back of my mind I believed some Prince Charming would emanate and take me away to the big city where he had everything set up for me. Yet after a rushed 3 years of college, a lackluster post graduation job with hourly wages and no desire, need or funds to pursue further education, I settled to retreating back to the comforts of the familiar. I went home. With minimal effort I was able to secure gainful employment back home and move out of the parent’s house shortly after moving back in.


But somehow retracing my steps in this coastal Florida town has not been fulfilling. I wonder if it is the same elsewhere, or if it’s just this transient philosophy we grow up on in a transplant state. No one is really “from” here, it’s not like those Midwestern corn-fed towns where you’ve got familial dynasties all living in the same neighborhood, running the same high school tracks and working the same trades. If you were born here, your parents probably weren’t and if they actually were you’re a true rarity, a shark tooth in the sand and you earned that “FloGrown” window decal.

Just as I started to lose hope and blame the economy, the stagnant south, my unconventional degree and all the other voiceless scapegoats we like to turn on when times get tough, something good really happened and my love of life reengaged. Like movie script destiny, I was presented an opportunity to keep the job I enjoy so much AND transfer to a new location.

So it is my pleasure to share the excitement and anxiety that will accompany this transition over the next few weeks as my North Florida Brown Dog and I prepare to pack up the Corolla and head north.

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