A fellow writer questioned the premise in my novel, Mr. Hooks. He asked how do I expect readers to believe a catfish would know anything about movies. I asked him if he was a Christian. Puzzled, he stared at me. What’s that got to do with anything? I said: You believe God became a man, […]
Mr. Hooks is swimming through the last lap of The Ocmulgee and is about to step out onto dry land and into bookstores, a walking, talking catfish/film critic. Keep your eyes peeled. What he utters is utterly oracular and, for a fish, dry and sly.
Played three hours in the sun in a pickleball tournament at The Landings here in Savannah. Rubbery legs and a slight blister in my face. I did witness some outstanding 4.0 (very good) level players competing. I wish the local “Y”s had the facilities we played on yesterday.
Read the fine review of Catherine Chandler’s The Frangible Hour in The Weekly Standard. The reviewer, James Matthew Wilson, discerned Catherine’s subtle fusion of faith and physics. Like the great first scientists, Kepler and Newton, Catherine acknowledges divine order even though the world appears disorderly. But there is a side to her work that inclines […]
Lost in the balloons and monsoons of “track changes” for a publisher. What was begun with excitement, ends with comma fatigue and the haunting possible faux pas in Eats, Shoots and Leaves.
Thanks to all the Tietam Cane fans who have asked what would Tietam say about the current anti-confederacy climate. Since he didn’t own a TV and his grandfather refused to allow a radio in the house, he would be ignorant. And that might be good thing.
My parents guide me still. Their cares and concerns were lovingly local. Neighbors, what was happening at church, the job, the local ball teams, especially one that I played on–that’s what they talked about and cared about. National news, not to mention world news, rarely occupied their minds or became a subject of conversation.