Sign in

Get ready for the WTF

I remember why I first began a blog about a distinct subject like true crime: I don’t actually like talking about myself that much. No, really.

I’ve been doing something I’ve done a lot in the last 10 years, overthinking how to use this space after concluding I’m sticking with it, this is the blog. Then yesterday I asked myself some weird question about a passing curiosity and I recalled my best friend at the time, Matt, standing beside me in an ice cream place in 8th grade. …

A writer decides

Pixlr or something

Okay, I made a decision today. After 10 years of waffling, experiments, frustrations, Medium sold me.

This is, from here on out, my only blog outside paid professional work. Other sites I’ve made will remain live, but I plan to chip away at them, culling the best and re-editing it then posting here. Once I do that, I’m deleting the originals--Google doesn’t like cross-posts.

I’d go into why after what my wife would tell you is really almost 20 years of restlessness when it came to personal writing, I decided this is it, I’m sticking here, but I’m writing this…

My mother and I see something in the sky


One time when I was six I was standing in our front yard on a moonlit night, looking at the sky.

I tried to count stars, and I could see each one clearly, crisp bright white rhinestones studding a faded indigo cloak.

That was the last time I can remember seeing the world as it is, hard-edged breeze, clear air, everything alive and etching itself into existence.

In the sky I saw what I thought was a distant Christmas Tree on its side, an arrow bearing flickering lights, out of season, all the Spirits of Christmas escaping the slumbering North…

This will save your soul from the Hellmouth

Music by Steve Huff

One gray day a few months after the world shut down, a man drove a truck through my neighborhood praying for us all. I did not quite catch all the words to the prayer blaring over and over from the speaker in his truck bed. The man’s English was accented and the sound was muddy as it bounced off house, pavement, cars, trucks. I recorded him anyway because at that moment I finally accepted the world had changed in a surreal, monumental way. I took the sample of sound and began playing with it in different…

Image by the author made somewhere in Vermont

And it’s basically, you know, no longer pretending this is not a blogging site. Still exploring it though because Medium has always been a tool I wanted to use but it literally felt like it had a certain vibe that didn’t quite fit my blogging jones — which sometimes is going longer than a tweet, but not that much longer.

But if I like the innovations they’ve said they’re implementing, I might stay with Medium after all.

Soldiers from Fort Riley, Kansas, ill with Spanish flu at a hospital ward at Camp Funston (Image: Wikimedia)

This waking dream is getting to me.

When I was in 7th grade — I think it was spring that year — I had a terrible nightmare. In it, I knew that my oldest sister, Sherry, was dead, but I could not find her body. I saw a hat I recognized as one of her favorites by the backyard fence. As I approached, it was like walking against a strong current, slow and dreadful. Then I was beside the hat, and I saw it was on her head. She was buried up to her neck.

I remember the dream still because it was so traumatic I had…

Render of the coronavirus (

“Our lives are in your hands.”

The woman whom I first knew as Missy Kelty when we were kids is now officially Melissa Watson, BSN, RN. And she is on the frontlines of the fight against the Coronavirus, a.k.a. COVID-19. Because I’m a writer and editor she reached out to me on Facebook to get input on an essay she wrote about what she and her colleagues are up against.

I first met Missy in elementary school. I remember a sweet, whipsmart blonde who even as a kid came across as kind and sincere. When we reconnected in our 40s on Facebook I discovered she’d stayed…

Not that I’m complaining.

I’ve always liked Medium in the abstract; it seems like a good idea. Taking all the fuss out of building a blog and just writing. But even the quickest glance at my old posts shows I am not a power user here. I have gone for very long periods of time without posting a thing.

There’s a strange yet distinct “culture” on Medium (all blogospheres develop a kind of global character, in my experience — and yes, this is a kind of blogosphere) that I never know what to make of. I joke about it a lot, but objectively it’s…

A curated collection of clocks and watches.


I open the little roll-top bread box at the end of the kitchen counter at least once a day and stare at the bag. It doesn’t contain bread. It’s adorned with a bright orange and black symbol, and dull metal glints within. It’s a cursed object — the symbol is familiar and modern, but it could also pass for an ancient sigil etched on the wall inside a witch’s tomb.

Image: Uline

This time, I take the bag out for closer inspection. The stark, overhead light in the kitchen feels too bright as I stand there, staring, mind somehow blank and…

Go ahead, ask me what time it is.

My thing for timepieces is not new. I worked in master control rooms in broadcast and cable TV for over a decade. Keeping accurate time is no joke in the TV business; advertisers will hedge payments for spots based on timeliness. There are also “hard breaks” tied to satellite transmission windows as well as other events — moments when whatever is airing absolutely has to be on time. …


Nashville boy in New England, Deputy Digital Editor for Author of two official tie-ins to AMC’s BETTER CALL SAUL and four official children.

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store