In my last blog, I raised the question of how it is possible for fiction to reveal more truth than non-fiction--how things that never happened can be made to feel more real than, well, reality. While acknowledging that I have no answer, my working hypothesis is rooted in a writer’s need to explore those things which he or she are driven to understand but, for an assortment of reasons, cannot yet comprehend. Why then, you might ask, would a person write instead of doing medica

When I left you last week I was on the cusp of literary stardom with my first novel, Bethesda’s Child. I had what I had been assured was a very good story, one of the top literary agents in New York had signed me up as a client, and the timing of the genetic science, which anticipated issues and tensions springing to world consciousness a few years later when Dolly the Sheep was created (invented?) seemed perfect. All the elements had fallen into place for a best seller with

In last week’s blog, a Wizard in the form of my youngest son, Carter, helped me take the first step along the road I am still traveling. Ironically, the next step on that road also involved a son, the middle one, and soccer. My copy of A Dare on the Bridge stayed on a preferred corner of my desk, and every time I saw it I got the urge to write something. I took that as a good sign. The urge to write needed to become irresistible, and it did. I read in the local newspaper, the