The lifelong apprentice

OTHER LIVES marks my first collection of short fiction. And while the material is new—I wrote the more than two dozen stories with within the past year—the project has taken a lifetime to complete.

As a child, my mother and father read the usual fare at night—Uncle Arthur’s Bedtime Stories at first, then tales of adventure featuring the barnyard animals of the Little Golden Books series. As I grew, my parents might not get the toys I wanted, but they would always buy a book. Reading fostered a desire to write, which led to magazine work in Manhattan and a career as a journalist.

By the early eighties, I’d run though just about every editorial job at the newspaper and struck out on my own. I credit former East Stroudsburg University professor Fred Misurella with reigniting my interest in fiction. In his short-story workshops, he challenged students to explore all the elements in their toolkit and imported talent to make the point, luminaries such as Marilynne Robinson, who had just released her breakout novel Housekeeping, a finalist for the 1982 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction, and novelist John Gardner (Grendel, Mickelsson’s Ghosts), who, while reading one of my pieces aloud, proclaimed, “As they say in the old country, ‘Das ist ein Dichter.’” Even with my rudimentary knowledge of German, I knew he had identified me as a writer. I was stunned.

Later, as we sat on the floor of Fred’s apartment in the literary version of an after-party, I told Gardner of the difficulty I’d had locating his novels in our local bookstore.

“They weren’t filed under Fiction, so I asked the clerk for help. He found them under Literature.”

Gardner howled.

While I wasn’t his student (he taught at SUNY Binghamton), he offered to read more of the work I’d generated in Fred’s classes. I imposed by sending a book-length collection of stories, most of which, read in hindsight, were terrible. Gardner invited me to his farmhouse in Susquehanna, Pa., and annotated the first story before sending me home with the rest. To the end, he remained a generous and gracious man, quite the opposite of the brash critic who wrote On Moral Fiction.

Fred continued to encourage me, suggesting I enroll in the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, the gold standard of American creative writing education, and attend the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, characterized by The New Yorker as “the oldest and most prestigious writers’ conference in the country.” Iowa was out of the question, time and money the biggest impediments, but I did make it to Bread Loaf and, in the summer of 1984, journeyed to Vermont to study with some of the best: Hilma Wolitzer, Nicholas Delbanco, Francine Prose, and Bob Reiss, my advisor and the only commercial novelist on the ticket (he writes thrillers).

The short story workshop remains one of my favorites. Led by Delbanco, it included fellow Pennsylvania resident Andrea Barrett, who submitted what quickly became a class favorite, “The Apple Picker Hits the Road.” I still have the photocopy she distributed in class.

After that, writing fiction took a backseat to earning a living. I did two tours of duty at a small newspaper in Northeast Pennsylvania, the first as a reporter and photographer, the second as an editor, then quit to write articles and books for US Airways and the University of Scranton Press, respectively. Fiction would have to wait.

And it did. After a second career in marketing and public relations, I wrote eleven novels and two slim volumes of nonfiction before running dry. But for many of us, we can never escape the question, What do I do next? I buy the Pushcart Prize collection every December, along with a number of other best-of books, and find myself reading more short fiction than novels, a function of a diminishing attention span, no doubt, but a motivating force that led to a series of stories written for my writers’ group.

Which leads us here. So, what will you find? A selection of two-dozen historical, crime, and speculative pieces encompassing the decades from the mid-1950s through today. Characters that include a rapturous cafeteria worker, a love-struck cab driver, and an embittered newspaper columnist. Women, men, and children who battle life and sometimes win the fight.

You’ll find people who tackle contemporary issues with an equal mixture of hope and hype: a billionaire’s ill-fated mission to Mars; a columnist whose state justifies the killing of political opponents as free speech; a storm-water field services agent who struggles with his own refusal to move to higher ground.

You’ll meet people who consider themselves accidental criminals: a woman who must decide whether to rescue a health-insurance executive who denies life to others; an abused young woman who, during a police ride-along, discovers a way to free herself from her drug-dealer boyfriend. You’ll also find overlooked souls who survive with surprising agility: An immigrant expecting deportation after cleaning a crime scene earns a reward for her silence; a software architect fleeing civilization after a breakup discovers the magic of imagination.

Then there are the speculative pieces that take place in the near-future: A father who resurrects his daughter through A.I.; a photographer who believes he can capture crimes before they happen; a woman who removes her ex by deleting him from her wedding photos.

Most of the stories stand on their own. Others form an interlocking chain, following characters through the perils of the Cold War to its re-emergence today. While the people, settings, and emotions vary, all of these stories ask an essential question, one that reverberates down the decades: who are the people we call others, these wayfaring strangers who look and sound remarkably like us?

The e-book and paperback are available now through Amazon from this link: https://bit.ly/4ALQ0jq

You can find my other work from the Amazon author’s page: https://amzn.to/4mDNuos

Now Hear This

All five books in the CW McCoy/Walter Bishop series of mystery novels are now available in audio from Amazon. And all at less than $10 a piece, a third of the usual cost.

The series follows former police officer and real estate agent Candace McCoy as she tries to balance career and crime with the care of her grandfather. The setting will be familiar to many—a tony beach town remarkably similar to the twin Florida cities of Sarasota and Bradenton.

You’ll find audio, e-book, and paperback versions of the novels here:

Trial by Fire

In her fifth outing (after Permanent Vacation), former detective-turned-real-estate-agent CW McCoy rushes headlong into her most troubling case, one that will change her life forever. With Burning Man, she faces the greatest challenge of all—coming to terms with a past that continues to blaze.

Here’s the opening chapter:

I WOKE TO the smell of danger. It seeped through the floorboards and pushed under the door and crawled into my bed. It stung my eyes and clogged my nose and tasted sour as an old penny. There was another smell, too, like the time Mommy turned on the stove and forgot to light it and my brother made a joke about the house blowing up.

It was four days before Christmas, a Saturday and the start of our holiday vacation, mine from kindergarten, Colton’s from second grade, although it didn’t feel like Christmas, because there was no snow. Daddy had just put up the lights, too many, Mommy said. He’d stood on a ladder and hung them over the windows while Mommy stood on the sidewalk below, her arms crossed, telling him not to burn down the house.

This smell felt wrong. Like the time Daddy lit a fire and forgot to open the flap in the chimney, and the smoke tumbled out in swirling stripes, as if it were trying to escape. The smell was dry as the newspapers he pushed beneath the twigs, the logs making a high, hissing sound as if they were hurt by the flames.

My parents had gone to a party. They should have been back. They should have come in to check.

The light that came through the curtains made a square on the wooden floor. Beneath the door, the smoke went in and out as if something in the hall was breathing, alive, coming after me. A lizard with a flame for a tongue or the lady with her hair full of snakes. Or burglars. Daddy was always talking about burglars. Colt would say it was a dragon, breathing fire and smoke as it hunted for little children to cook and eat, but then he liked to scare me.

The smoke stung my eyes and hurt my head. I couldn’t swallow. But I had to warn everyone. And I had to see what was in the hall.

Sliding from bed, knocking over the lamp and a gold cup with curly handles that said I could count to twenty, I crept toward the door. The floor felt warm. I reached for the knob. It turned, but the door wouldn’t open. I rattled and pulled and yanked as hard as I could, but the door wouldn’t budge. I banged on it and yelled for Colt, whose bedroom was across from mine, but no one answered. I put my ear to the keyhole, but I couldn’t hear the voices I’d heard earlier, just before I’d fallen asleep. Angry voices.

Smoke curled over my feet and crept up my pajamas. Like a dusty hand, it pushed me toward the bed. Tripping over the lamp, I crawled under the quilt Nana had made for me, the one with a picture of Snoopy on his doghouse, and stared at the door, daring the monster in the hall to break it down. Its gray breath grew dark, rolling up the wall and across the ceiling. It warmed the air and stuffed my nose and made my tongue stick to the top of my mouth.

From the street below, I heard a siren and the honk honk of horns.

The smoke changed from gray to yellow-brown. It rose through the cracks in the floor and reached over the bed. My chest felt as if someone had me in a bear hug, but I would not go with the smoke. I would climb out the window and come back through the front door and run up the stairs to wake Colton. And together we would save our parents.

Pulling the quilt over my shoulders, I stumbled to the window and tried to lift it, but the window was stuck. I pounded the latch with my hands, but the latch wouldn’t budge.

The sirens got louder, and then they stopped. Red lights flashed across the window. From the street, I heard honking and shouting and the rattle of something as it scraped against the house. Then a dark shape holding a long stick appeared in the window and ducked out of sight, so I wouldn’t know what it was doing. It raised the stick and used it to smash the window and ran it around the edge, the glass flying into the curtains and bouncing across the floor. The shape had a big head that stuck out in the back and a mask like divers wore in the ocean. That’s where its breath came from, the smoke, how it blew it under the door into my room. And because the door was locked, it had climbed up the side of the house. It put a foot on the window and another on the floor and, setting the stick against the wall, stuck out its big black hands and moved toward me.

My ears stung. My heart hurt. My mouth felt as dry as paper. Falling back into the quilt, I cried for help, but nothing came out.

The dark shape wore a raincoat and gloves and had a hump on its back. As it got closer, I saw that it wasn’t a monster but a man, a fireman. He was saying something from inside his mask, but I couldn’t hear. He stomped across the floor and, like the smoke, reached for me. I got scared. I couldn’t leave before I found Colton and Mom and Dad. As I backed against the bed, my hand landed on the cup. I couldn’t stop whatever was still in the hall, Colt would have to do that, but I could stop the man. Raising the cup over my head, I rose to my knees and swung as hard as I could.

But the man was too fast. Wrapping me in the quilt, he threw me over his shoulder and lifted me through the window. I couldn’t breathe and began pounding on his hump. Opening my eyes, I looked down a ladder at firetrucks and flashing lights and people dragging big fans through our front door. The ladder bounced. I felt dizzy. The lights hurt my eyes. The man’s foot slipped.

Just when I thought he would drop me, my cellphone rang.

—

Burning Man is available through bookstores and online at Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Kobo and Smashwords. You can find all of the books in the Candace McCoy series, plus other works of fiction and nonfiction, at my author page on Amazon.

An unhappy family like no other

Did CW McCoy’s father kill her mother and brother and nearly take her life? The question has haunted the former detective for nearly thirty years. When friend and mentor Walter Bishop discovers that police have arrested a suspect, CW reluctantly revisits her roots to uncover the hard truth about her family—no matter the cost.

Confronted by hostile sources and a city ravaged by a string of arsons, CW questions everything she’s come to believe about that night. Did her father commit the crime, or was he framed? Did he disappear, or was he murdered? And what about her own history with conflict? Does the family’s violent streak run in her veins, too?

In her fifth outing (after Permanent Vacation), CW rushes headlong into her most troubling case, one that will change her life forever. With Burning Man, she faces the greatest challenge of all—coming to terms with a past that continues to blaze.

Burning Man is available through bookstores and online at Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Kobo and Smashwords.

For business, the high cost of high tide

The tide is shifting. The debate over global warming has moved from theoretical to practical. As in, what is the cost of climate change to businesses and, eventually, to all of us?

Real estate agents find themselves at the heart of the issue. Anything that affects property values affects their livelihood. So it’s encouraging to see a call to action from one of their own.

Craig Foley, chair of the National Association of Realtors’ Sustainability Advisory Group, says that ignoring the impact of climate change on real estate has serious business implications. “Particularly in coastal areas, members have told me both they and their clients are worried about declining property values and buyer interest.” The piece, entitled “We Don’t Have 50 Years to Wait,” appears in the March/April 2019 issue of Realtor magazine.

In case you think that’s the hype of tree-huggers, Foley backs his observation with well-credentialed statistics. “Researchers at the University of Colorado at Boulder and Pennsylvania State University compared properties that are similar except for their proximity to the sea and found that the more exposed homes sold for 6.6 percent less than the others during the sample period from 2007 to 2016.”

Foley ends his commentary with this thought: “As I see it, we can’t afford to be on the wrong side of history on climate change.”

That captures a core issue of Permanent Vacation, a novel in which the protagonist, real estate agent CW (Candace) McCoy, discovers that encouraging construction in a flood zone is a sure way to sink a career.

You can read Foley’s commentary here. If you buy or sell real estate and have a comment on this or any other issue, you’re welcome leave it here as well.

 

 

 

A rising tide floats all buildings

Sometimes reality catches up with fiction.

Yesterday, a Florida Senate committee advanced legislation that would require the state to plan for rising seas. The action comes after storm surge has repeatedly flooded parts of Miami and threatened its infrastructure.

The proposed legislation is unique in that it avoids the politically divisive issue of climate change and addresses the economic aspect of rising sea levels.

Lawmakers aren’t alone in considering the financial impact of coastal development. The economics, and ethics, of building in flood zones form the central premise of Permanent Vacation, a novel set in a fictionalized version of Sarasota and Bradenton, Florida, both of which border the Gulf of Mexico. Central to that issue is whether governments should encourage or discourage behavior that puts people and property at risk.

Permanent Vacation is available from Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Kobo and Smashwords. You can read the story about Florida lawmakers here.

The 32 Days of Christmas

Have you ever wondered where writers find their ideas?

They come from a multitude of sources, from friends and family, scandals and events. Even dreams. Those sources shape a book’s characters and plot. But what about the setting, which often becomes a secondary character? Where do those ideas originate?

For me, they spring from the places I’ve lived, from the wooded hills of eastern Pennsylvania to the beaches of Florida’s Gulf Coast. Time spent there has yielded not only a treasure of sights but insight into the culture that produced them.

All of that is on display in Permanent Vacation, the fourth in the CW McCoy series of crime novels. For the next 32 days, I’ll share on social media the places that inspired the novel, each image accompanied by a quote from one of the 32 chapters in the book. The photos illustrate some of the major themes of the novel—over-development, coastal flooding, financial fraud—all challenges faced by business and residents, real and fictional.

It’s a visual journey I hope you won’t miss. You’ll find the photos on Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter. Here’s a preview.

For a closer look at the world of CW McCoy, you can order the novel from Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Kobo and Smashwords, as well as bookstores everywhere.

 

An aerial view of the marina in Sarasota, Florida

 

A circus-themed bar like the one Rae Donovan runs

 

Supermoon coastal flooding in Florida stalls a motorcycle built for speed

 

Glass condominium in Sarasota, Florida suggested the twin towers of InSpire

Will Walter sail into the harbor of Spanish Point ever again?

 

 

An artists’ rendering of The Bay in Sarasota becomes the inspiration for the rejuvenation project in Permanent Vacation