While we make our way to a full-service rest stop, the tramp falls into a routine. He takes a drink.…
South Dakota. The sun is a blank white fire rolling across the sky. H. and I are squatted at an…
I was a Boy Scout. Should have known better. Never pitch a tent on a slope. Gravity always wins. Your…
His name was Stein. Driving a Ford beater, he stops to pick up H. and I just outside Missoula, Montana.…
Ok, I knew the tango segment would be popular… But I underestimated it a bit… And now realize (duh) that…
Travel is a central motif in my latest book, “Huck Finn is Dead,” albeit in the most exaggerated form: Carney…
Robert Lescher, of the Lescher & Lescher Literary Agency, recently passed away at the age of 83. This post is…
I don’t thoroughly subscribe to the “write what you know” dictum. I mean, come on, does that mean I have…
In 1997, I started a book called “Huck Finn is Dead.” It made the rounds of the top New York…