My Books
Writing snuck up on me like no-see-ums—I never felt the bite till the itch had me about half mad. I planted my butt at my desk and, soon enough, found I needed a big monitor so my neck could tolerate the long days. I’ll bet heroin would be easier to quit now that the bug’s burrowed. Good question for our new Health Chief, I guess. I’ll keep scratching at paper till I’m cured. I hear death works.
Speaking of that, 43 years of flying didn’t kill me. But it left me with enough marvelment to fill more novels than I’ve got time to write. I cut my teeth on a memoir, spilling decades of embarrassment, as if all those years weren’t humbling enough.
I moved on to fiction starting with a historic version, “Fire on the Mountain," which centers mainly in the area where I grew up. I turned out quite a saga—four hundred and some pages. It’d be over a thousand if I hadn’t buzz-sawed it down. I’m working on Reverend Maclean’s advice to his son Norman in A River Runs Through It—thrift being the place where grace is found. I published what I thought was a great book. But my storytelling style’s changed. A lot. I unpublished “Fire…” and am rewriting it. It seems worth the effort to me. I hope it will be for you too. You can decide in about a year, when I expect it to be ready.
Number three, “Into Focus,” has reviews that indicate it’s a great book. But you won’t find it here either. It needs a new cover and title. Then I’ll invite it back.
I’m sinking ever deeper into this good versus evil world. It came along naturally, reflective of real-world trouble, and set up camp in my writer’s brain. I’ve grown quite fond of it. Take a look if you like. There are always free chapters in my “Works” tab. I hope you discover what you’re looking for, and if you do, I hope it keeps you up late and gives you nightmares. That’s my aim. Feel free to drop a review and let me know if I succeeded.
How I wished Arif’s role and mine could have been reversed. I forced myself to remember that in about three minutes, all this suffering would end and my hysterical comrades would join ecstatic relatives. It was comforting to know that Allah would reward each for their high service, faith, and worship.
Genre: Thriller | 390 pages | 2025
A tempest seemed to rage against us, its fury slowly increasing as the air we penetrated thickened like soup in the lower altitudes. This we’d learned in flight attendant training so the noise wouldn’t alarm us. But this was louder than I’d ever heard, and a few seconds later, the aircraft started shaking. I knew Arif had calculated all this and that we wouldn’t go fast enough to rip the plane apart, but it was getting harder by the second to believe that. I forced a smile and started chanting, “Allahu Akbar,” the homage comforting enough to carry me to the coming glory.
