New Yorks city neurotics
On a New York morning, the city smells like a dream that never got aired out: a little coffee, a […]
On a New York morning, the city smells like a dream that never got aired out: a little coffee, a […]
KLEIO III – Consortium – an excerpt The bus got bogged down in the dark. Not literally. The wheels were
“KLEIO – Residuum” is a dark, fast-paced tech-noir thriller about the most dangerous currency of the future: your memory. In
Domestic politics. Foreign affairs. Op-eds. Then the page labeled Tech & Society. Her article. “Collective Curators: What KLEIO Spares Us.”
The Permission – Psychological Profile of a Murderer | Curiosity-Provoking Book Summary The Permission – Psychological Profile of a Murderer
The alarm clock was silent. Had been for days. Emily lay on her back and stared into the darkness until
The snow drifted in from the Hudson over the unfinished streets, gummed up the rails of the horsecar, and settled
The wharf wasn’t a place where a man could stand still for long without someone shoving a sack into his
The book on the Wharf – A New York History Mystery Read More »
The city wasn’t quieter at night, just more honest. Marc stood under the entrance awning, his coat collar pulled up,
How I Craft My Stories As the early morning fog lifts over Manhattan, I’m already at my desk, ready to
The alarm clock was silent. It had been for days. Emily lay on her back, staring into the darkness until
New York has a lot of stories. Stories people tell each other, stories that have been forgotten, and stories hardly
Later—maybe hours later—Emily was back on the roof of the newsroom building, her arms resting on the railing. The concrete
She opened the “System History” tab. [TRACE LOG | THERAPY/CACHE]Access: 02:41Duration: 00:11:03Source: UNKNOWNPath: /therapy/cache/temp/assistFlag: mirror_session (beta) Mirror session. Beta. No
“No,” Voigt said. “Not this time. I want to see if she can find her way back.” Emily ran toward
There are moments in a New York writer’s life that just don’t cut it for great literature, ya know? Not
I shoulda known somethin’ was up when that squirrel gave me the stink eye for the third time that mornin’.
There are days when the novel just locks up. Yesterday was one of those. The page stayed cold, the lines
Late at night, she went back up to the roof.The skyline was back where it belonged—far enough out not to
Around 10 p.m., the city was trying for quiet and passing for order. Emily sat at the window, forehead to
I’m currently editing my new book. It looks like I’ll be able to publish the new story in early December
I just wanted to write a book. One line that smells like cotton candy, another that sounds like bad diner