Monthly Archives: November 2012

On Writing, Being in Love with a Tiger, and Going to Movies By Myself

I hate writing a novel.  It is the stupidest quote unquote dream to have.  Period.  I wish, when I’d been sitting in Helen Nicholson’s junior advanced English class at Rocky Mount Senior High School that I had decided–instead of fulfilling … Continue reading

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Part II (The Connections): I End Up in the Closet with Uncle Herb

In my last blog, I introduced you to Uncle Herb, a Vietnam medic who re-enacted the splattering of napalm on my face by popping me in the jaw.   Along with his effective teaching methods, he also has a gigantic … Continue reading

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Part I (The Encounter): Uncle Herb Teaches Me About Bananas, Straight Pins, and Maggots

  “Napalm!  It’s a jelly!  It explodes! It sticks to you!” It’s Sunday morning, and I’m standing on Uncle Herb’s screened in porch with him, both of us leaning against the pool table.  We’ve just met as a result of … Continue reading

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