Month: January 2014

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Bruthaman

I was lucky, I thought, having procured a videotape copy of Jurassic Park while it was still in the theaters, guaranteeing me the pleasure of watching the biggest movie in America in the privacy of my own home. It didn’t matter that the case was a little blurry, and when I opened it the videotape … Continue reading Bruthaman

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Sleep Deprived

I fell asleep in the library again, and I think I know the culprit. I’m lucky no one stole any of my personal possessions while I was passed out. Perhaps it was because I was propped up in the seat with a book open on my lap so I appeared like I would awaken if … Continue reading Sleep Deprived

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So This is Global Warming?

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Bundle up.

Remember global warming? It was a hot-button term at the beginning of the 21st century. As our illustrious former vice president said, “It’s a certain truth. But it’s an inconvenient truth.” And yet since then we’ve recorded some of the harshest, coldest temperatures in this world’s history. In fact, today my children were home from school for a “snow” day, even though it wasn’t snowing. It was really a “frigid temperature” day, which was funny because yesterday it got up to 45 here in upstate New York. And isn’t that really the gist of the whole “global warming” issue, the idea of a global shifting of climate. Climate change, now that’s a phrase I can get on board with, but is it new?

When I was a kid growing up in Philadelphia I clearly recall a rough winter when it snowed more days than it didn’t, and during one stretch of time it didn’t stop snowing for three days straight, at the end of which we had over six feet of snow. And like good neighbors we made sure to dig out, at least to the sidewalk. There were these six foot walls of snow on either side, like we were rats in a huge, white maze. I was fascinated by it, sticking my hand out at one point while following my father, who was digging with the shovel, and touching one of the walls. My hand sunk in a little bit and was quickly covered in snow. I screamed and my dad turned around to laugh at me. I yanked my hand out of the snow and some of the wall crumbled at my feet. That was the end of that exploration.

Then, about fifteen years later, I went to New York City with a few friends of mine in order to party with another friend who lived in a dorm at NYU. We took the train in like we always did, but it was the time before instant notices ahead of time about weather situations. We knew a storm was supposed to come, but we didn’t realize it would be the blizzard of the decade, which it turned out to be. Continue reading “So This is Global Warming?”

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The 257

cover-bowlingWhen I was a teenager I was more known for being my sister’s brother than for anything else, and I didn’t do much to dissuade people from the assumption that I wasn’t much more than that. Call it lack of self-esteem, or maybe it was that I played way too often to expectations. In school I would get teachers the year after my sister did, and they would always tell me they expected great things, so I gave them great things. Of course my efforts were never applauded because they were expected. It was only when I did something unexpected that I got noticed, which always seemed ironic to me.

So, by junior year I had done a grand total of one thing others hadn’t expected, which was shaving my head on the coldest day of the year. But that convinced me maybe I was on to something. If I wanted to stop being known as merely “Joy’s brother what’s-his-name?” I had to do the unexpected. So I did. I joined the bowling team.

Now, when I saw the signups on the bulletin board outside the office I was intrigued. I had never voluntarily tried out for a school sport. Sure, freshman year I had signed up for an intramural volleyball tournament with two other guys who never bothered showing up for the actual games. And I had played well during recess class when we did badminton and table tennis, but that was about my entire experience with sports to that point. So signing up for the bowling team tryouts was a big step, and I did all I could to get ready for it. For a solid two weeks before tryouts I went to our local bowling alley after school and bowled until my arm was sore. I tried every technique there was (and believe me, I did, because I read all the books in the school library and the public library on bowling techniques), and when I stepped into that bowling alley for tryouts I thought I was ready.

I was wrong.

-4977343e216bb47cEvery boy in there to try out for the team had been on the team the previous year except me and this one scrawny kid who seemed like a nice puff of air would blow him over. Every boy who was trying out had a big weight advantage over me, too, and supposedly the power to go with it. Picture me back then, a tall, lanky kid with a box haircut, wearing corduroy pants and an over-sized sweatshirt. I almost walked back out of the door, but the coach noticed me and made me sit down there with the other guys who obviously knew each other. There was one boy there, Stanley, who I had classes with, and that’s the only thing that made the wait somewhat bearable. We talked about class, and how we were the smartest two in our math class, which took up some of the time. But by then our names were being called one by one and the butterflies began again. Continue reading “The 257”

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Cutting Room Floor: Part 2

Scraps of papers on tiled floorFor some reason, I guess I like telling stories that shift, either in perspective, in plot, or in time. My debut novel did all three at the same time, weaving them together in an interesting tapestry, and this new novel does similar things, at least to plot and perspective. I wrote the initial draft of the novel in the span of three weeks. In fact, it’s the fastest I’ve ever finished the first draft of anything larger than a short story. Of course the speediness of the manuscript lent itself also to a plethora of re-writes just for plot discrepancies that always creep in but tend to do even more so when a piece is written so quickly. I was surprised, however, upon my first and second edits, to find not too many plot holes and issues.

Now, as I work on the final edit, I’m reminded of why this story was so interesting to me in the first place. I’ve always been fascinated by books, shows, and movies about bank robberies. At the time I started to write the first manuscript there was a book published called The Heist, by Janet Evanovich and Lee Goldberg, and it reminded me of my dormant obsession with the genre. While that book was a massive disappointment, I nonetheless credit it with rekindling the fire inside of me. Right away I started writing and I didn’t stop until it was finished.

It’s slated for release on February 18th, and to say I’m excited is putting it mildly. I am so pumped because it’s exactly the type of book I would read if given the chance, and I hope those who enjoyed my first novel will enjoy this one too, even though they are drastically different. Welcome to my Cutting Room Floor.

THE STORY

It’s a mystery novel that tracks events leading up to and directly following a bank robbery, but it’s a lot more than just that. It’s also a study of contrasts between expectations and reality. What I love most about the story is that it is written in fragments and from different perspectives. Because it switches around so much it reveals in pieces the motivations and connections between the robbers, the ones who are seeking them, and other happenings in the city where the robbery takes place. The story delves into politics and crime, and shows how they’re not mutually exclusive. Continue reading “Cutting Room Floor: Part 2”