it’s the beginning of the month and i had every intention of posting a new edition of my newsletter today. sitting at the keyboard most of the day, staring at this white screen unable to summon any words… let alone thoughts that make any sense when put in sequence.

i am gutted.


i want to get to work, but i need to allow myself time to grieve for this wonderful experiment that unfortunately failed.

Booktrope basically gave me the opportunity to become a writer. what i mean is, i played with words most of my life as a side note. i never once expected or even thought of myself as an author. i performed and composed music, until eventually that music became songs with lyrics. some rhymed, some didn’t (which mightily pissed off more than one singer.)

books and poetry were a part of my life since childhood. there were books forever at my bedside and on tables regardless if they were school assignments. jots of a line here and a phrase there hidden on bent cornered inside covers of paperbacks brought me to the songs we eventually sang on stage in the various formations of my bands.

once the music was taken away from me, i disappeared. i crawled into a deep hole intent on damaging myself beyond repair. on the shove off the cliff suggestion of my wife, i started writing to stay creative. some of those small stories became a blog. i never expected anyone to read it other than myself, a few friends and former band mates.

Booktrope took notice of one of those short stories, expressed an interest and it eventually grew into my first novel, “the Key to everything”. one could make the suggestion that i could have done it myself. i could have found confidence inside to realize the story, find an editor, cover artist and self-publish on my own. sure. easy to say. not so easy to do for someone who never dreamed of it as a possibility in the first place.

this chapter has ended. finality. period at the end of the sentence. THE END. i am fighting to remain peaceful and positive though that is against my nature. i flip/flop from wanting to scream and throw my laptop against a wall one minute…the next i’m looking at my three published books on the shelf and smiling at all of the unexpected and wonderful things that have occurred over the past six years of my life.

none of the new friends i’ve made would be here if it weren’t for the opportunity provided by this subversive little publishing experiment. i wouldn’t be a member of ARIA (the Association of Rhode Island Authors) and know all of these terrific people i’ve come to consider a family of sorts. all of the horror writer communities i am now proud to be a part of. the independent authors who are always so supportive and fun to plot world domination with. the artists and editors and not to mention the readers! (i heard that someone even went so far as to get a tattoo of something from one of my books)

i spent my entire life making music and never sold more than a handful of records to friends and family. but now, people around the world have bought and read my books! imagine someone in Germany reading about my demonic squirrels. a Spaniard or two has visited my strange hospital room where a pregnant woman waits to give birth to something unspeakable… people in the United Kingdom are looking at the storm brewing sky hoping the sound in the distance is not Beethoven…

while struggling inside to figure out the next steps…i am deeply honored to have been chosen to begin this journey in the first place.

thanks for reading.



p.s. these two songs have been running through my head every since the news landed on friday…




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