Scattered Debris

Life, events and circumstances create fallout. Some of it’s good, some of it’s bad and some of it’s inconsequential but it’s all a part of how we are. The problem is that we can never really know what’s going to happen, what the cause will be to our effect. One hit, one fall, one rise can scatter everywhere, touching people we don’t even know or spraying distant horizons with dust. We try to predict, make assumptions and projections but the reality is that there are forces and other effects that we cannot predict. Thus, as the saying goes, ‘shit happens’.

Plus ca change / Plus c’est la meme chose / The more that things change / The more they stay the same. – Rush “Circumstances”

So what is Scattered Debris?

It is that fallout. Good, bad or indifferent...

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Cover Redesign

New cover of 2nd edition

Well, I’ve been talking about it for about a year, getting input from folks on Goodreads and within my writing group at the time. As is often the case, I’d work on it for a bit, consider some ideas and play around looking for images but ultimately it would get swept aside by other events.

Thankfully, my in-house graphic designer has a bit more initiative than I do. She took it upon herself to come up with a new cover on her own and it looks great. Very eye catching and reflective of the city that lives and breaths in my novel.

Here is the link on AMAZON.

Here is my graphic designers WEBPAGE.

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A Great New Website


I’ve been trying out various writing sites. Places to post writing and receive feedback and make connections with other writers. Most of them wind up being nothing more that infomercials for their book, website, etc. Occasionally you can find a forum where there is some advice on writing styles or book covers or ways to promote your writing. The rest of these sites have the usual timeline/newsfeed front page which are invariably clogged with lots of self-congratulatory pronouncements and a multitude of requests for others to read their books. Very little in the way of interactions, however.

One site I have been introduced to lately is Inkitt. So far the only timeline is on the home page and is only writing that has been posted by other users...

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Review posted!

When I first published my novel Scattered Debris, I contacted several people through recommendations and forum postings on Goodreads to find people to review my book.

At last, a review was posted on Goodreads and I’m thrilled to share the link.

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Miller’s Ledge (part 2)

courtesy Psansao @
Phineas did not sleep when he finally returned to Pastor Bellow’s instead he quickly gathered all the monies he had earned and saved and ventured out to the home of Judge Plinth. The judge owned the aforementioned house on the lane leading out of town but he had since moved on to a much larger piece of property and less humble home. He sold the house to Phineas that very morning.
Clutching the deed, he marched out to the Greens house and boldly called upon Miss Emily without pretense. Upon sight of him, before she had even stepped out onto the porch, her heart suddenly skipped for a moment. Her father stepped out first, perhaps to dissuade him but Phineas insisted. With reluctance, for he believed that Emily did not love Phineas, Mr. Green gave his blessing if she were to say yes.
Emily ...
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Miller’s Ledge (part 1)

courtesy Psansao @

A House in Miller’s Ledge 

If one were to travel three days by buggy from Green Hills, you would arrive at the quiet little village of Miller’s Ledge. Upon approach you would notice the graceful steeple of the town church standing tall and white, a beacon like a landlocked lighthouse. You would also pass by the shops along its main road and the whitewashed, picket fences of its neat houses. Perhaps you would pause on the green to refresh your horse from the cool well and enjoy a freshly baked mince tart from Martha’s Bakery in the shade of a sheltering elm tree. Resting on the soft grasses you would think that, if one were searching for a place to call Eden then surely Miller’s Ledge would be a likely suitor.
Alas, dear friend, surfaces can be deceiving and one does not have to scra...
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Under Mourning Skies

I wrote this in conjunction with my novel Scattered Debris.  In the novel, the poet Ezra Finch composed this in the days after 9/11.  Ezra, I think, is much more gifted at poetry so I’d like to leave his version to imagination of the reader of the novel.

Under Mourning Skies

Under mourning skies of grey
A silence of falling tears
Echo in these man-made canyons
Emptiness rumbles like thunderheads
Swollen with anger and pain
And waiting to explode with blinding flashes
Filling the scars with floodwaters

Under mourning skies of grey
The ghosts of memory remain
Loitering in the ruined rift of time
shadows in the dust cloud that roiled
Along empty streets and settled amongst us
Phantoms refusing to be washed away
By last memory imaginings

Under mourning skies of grey
We look up to see noth...

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It’s been a while

After way too much time, I’ve finally got my laptop fixed and have thus eliminated a handy excuse for not writing.  After so much time using my phone to search the web, connecting and doing all that online socializing it seems weird to be sitting at a keyboard.  One thing I have discovered is how many things I thought were necessary for writing and creating really aren’t.  I’ve also discoved just how easily I can be distracted (like George’s father on Seinfeld, I am easily distracted by tinsel) .

Hopefully I will put my nose to the virtual grindstone and do some writing and promoting and all those things I should be doing but rarely do.

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Just Another Song….

This is another set of lyrics that i wrote during my time up in New York.  Again, rather melancholy but still a couple of nice “turn of  phrases” hidden in a lot of clunky writing.


Redemption’s out of Reach

My woman I’ve made mistakes
Created fears and heartaches
Made promises I didn’t keep
Came to faith I couldn’t keep leap
But when you asked me for my soul
Deep inside I turned cold
And I shielded my brimming eyes
Behind dark shadows and white lies
And now

I feel like there’s something missing
But I just don’t listen
My mistakes try to teach
But redemption’s just out of reach

My life it has gone wrong
Under a dark cloud for so long
And everywhere I turn
I see bridges I have burned
I should have tried to believe
Made out love my only creed
And cherished every...

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Scattered Debris

scattered debris(1)

It has been almost a year since the tragic event of 9/11 and Paul Barrow is still trapped in the cloud of memories. His carefully maintained, isolated world is invaded in one weekend by an old friend, a new love and a stranger with secrets entwined with his own.

Themes of isolation and forgiveness run through this story and were very much on my mind at the time I started to write. The description of Lulu and The Sherpa coffeehouse was the first thing I wrote, an idle description of a place that had no story around it. Everything seemed to evolve as I wrote, incorporating 9/11, the idea of believing you screwed up and forgiving yourself.

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Just A Song…….

At one point in my life, I found myself living in a small “apartment” in New York while the rest of my family was in Florida.  It didn’t take long for introspection to kick in and seeing that our things had been divided between theirs and mine.  Mine were in boxes that I never unpacked and theirs had been sent down to Florida.

Though I don’t know music and have never even dabbled in songwriting, this experience (and a lot of time on my hand) filled my creative mind with the opening line and the rest of this song came out.

I had imagined it as a Springsteen-type of arrangement, a friend of mine at the time saw it in more of a Johnny Cash mode.  Neither was certainly not in the vein of what is usually my first choice genre.


The Flood

Sometimes I wake in the dark of ...

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