Losing Dostoevsky

When I was at the very impressionable age of sixteen, an English teacher convinced me that The Brothers Karamazov was the best novel ever written. And I, of course, believed him.  He was one of those smarter-than-thou worldly sort of teachers, and I was a wide-eyed,...

1st Person, 3rd Person: Who's Talking Here?

I don’t want to toot my own horn too much, but I’ve been on a roll ever since I got home. I’ve gotten into this pattern where I wake up, novel 3 is already in my head, and I start writing even before I get out of bed. Two hours or so later, I’m...

Jet Lag and other Flight-Related Pleasures

I’m back in London, and amazingly enough, the sun is shining and it’s Mother’s Day.  Mr. D is out overseeing little league baseball outside of one of Britain’s most notorious prisons — yes, it’s true.  Son #1 is due to arrive over...