Description: Technical writing and editing service for government, industry, nonprofits, academics, and others.
I am an author – though I confess that label is more hopeful than descriptive – and currently at work on a novel that draws the veil from what I think of as the empty center of our self-awareness, namely prisons, crime, and the criminal legal system. These spaces are haunted by memory and voice; barely visible, barely legible, mirrors of society, and the sine qua non of social ontology, if you will. I’m also working on several short fiction pieces and poetry, some of which which I will to post here. I think
I haven’t cracked the threshold of fame, yet, at least in the world of literary fiction, and anyway, even saying so suggests more than a little hubris. Where is the Echo to my Narcissus? Puffed, and lonely somewhere. Is that ironic? Perhaps. And certainly distanced, in its way. To date, I have only non-fiction publications, and those under an alternate identity, as it turns out. Anyway, the demands of regular full-time work tend to give me an excuse for never quite completing my project. But I’m working on
The project itself takes on memory, suffering, and loss in our little village on the edge. Right now I find myself torn, in a way, between the sacralization and the banalization of suffering and loss. How does memory inform these? How do these, in turn, inform memory? When suffering takes on the shape of a piety, what are the consequences for personal and historical memory of events? It would be too liberal-bourgeois to say that I seek a middle ground. Rather, I think of these issues in terms of the “negati