Denis Johnson’s Land; or, The West of "Nobody Move"

The cover of Denis Johnson’s new novel Nobody Move screams KITSCHPULPNOIR with red and yellow letters and bullet holes spangling the jacket.
Famously serialized in Playboy, the story has plenty to like, or plenty to dislike, depending on how cooked you like your femme fatales, gun-toting heavies, and convoluted plots. I take mine hard as nails, so . . . → Read More: Denis Johnson’s Land; or, The West of "Nobody Move"

Mojave Desert Dream

The wash of wind. The flat land stretching to the mountains. Sunset.

Heavy work week. Nephew in trouble and I can’t do anything about it. No time to write. Barely keeping relationships intact. And then I dream. I . . . → Read More: Mojave Desert Dream

I Told You So; or, Republicans Aren’t Cowboys

Rugged individualism takes you far, especially if you’re a misanthrope. For the rest of us, it’s helpful to be nice to the neighbors, to let in the ConEd man to check the meter, and to obey street signs.

What has gotten my goat since Day One of Politics with the Sore-Loser Republican Party is how unobservant they . . . → Read More: I Told You So; or, Republicans Aren’t Cowboys