Trenton into Time

May, 2017

literary nonfiction
Superstition Review

In what had been whole cloth a seam appeared between protection and isolation that would divide me for decades. Maybe I was just growing up, sensing the structure of things, but awakening to the separations of time meant going to sleep on timelessness.

READ IT

Showbiz

March 23, 2017

Personal history
Volume 1 Brooklyn

From the start, the scales of giving a damn were tipped against our coach, seeking to advance his career by rising through the college ranks, with Vassar College Men’s Basketball circa 1986 as his springboard.

READ IT

Soccer as a Second Language

September 27, 2016

Travel nonfiction
Coldnoon: International Journal of Travel Writing & Travel Cultures

It was only when we arrived at the desk of the car rental, just down the road from the terminals of Barcelona Airport last summer, that we learned an international driver’s license was required to drive a car off their lot. With two weeks’ worth of luggage stowed at our feet, I cursed the fine print of the contract where this requirement had been buried. Bernadeane was coming down with a bad head cold. Otto and Suzanne, friends from home, spoke Spanish by virtue of being native Germans. But no amount of Euro – Spanish would change the car rental’s policy.

READ IT

Buying Time: Art, Entrepreneurship and Owning Your Value as a Writer

April 18, 2016

Literary nonfiction
Eclectica

At one workshop I attended, the instructor, an MFA candidate, stated in no uncertain terms: "Every artist needs a patron." It was the last thing I needed to hear to get my business off the ground. I so wanted a patron to come along and recognize me (more than I recognized myself) and free me from all this earning-a-living crap. Yeats had his patron; where was my Lady Gregory?

READ IT

Blacksheep

December 1, 2015

Memoir
Rock & Sling

One benefit of becoming the family black sheep two decades ago was that I no longer had to attend family functions. Once the mandatory became voluntary, I almost never went to anything. Birthdays, Thanksgivings, bar mitzvahs, weddings sped past like mile markers on a freeway, as the momentum of my freedom grew.

READ IT

Tunnel

November 1, 2015

Memoir
Pithead Chapel

It’s twenty minutes to the new hospital on Thompson Peak Parkway. Bernie drives, and I dry heave into a plastic bag, then gasp for air. Bernie asks how I’m doing? “Not good. Just go. Go.”

READ IT

Plan B

October 8, 2014

Memoir
Outside In Magazine

Most terrifying of all was that I had no real reason for being on that train. If I’d gotten my face sliced open it would have been for no purpose whatsoever. I was going to see friends, but just to hang out. As if I hadn’t hung out enough after four years of liberal arts college and a rudderless year in New York City. I’d come to the City vaguely hoping for some sort of salvation from myself. You’re either saved or your not; I was not.

READ IT

Belief

Summer 2014

Member
JMWW

I played on my first basketball team in sixth grade for a Jewish school in a Washington DC suburb, endowed by a local real estate developer, somehow named Smith, ironically enough, to perpetuate our Jewish identity.

READ IT

Outlier Heart

Feb 3, 2014

Memoir
Eclectica

Impossibly fervent, intolerably vulnerable, I made my growing up an exercise of mind over body, reason over feeling. I thought everyone did this and assumed adulthood would generate its own sense of connection and substantiation to replace what I'd sacrificed. But the more I hid my haunting, the more ethereal I became, until I almost wasn't present at all. So I started living by my outlier heart, and I'm seeing where it takes me.

READ IT

Vector

Nov 11, 2013

Memoir
Burrow Press Review

That doctor murmurs non-committal clinical commentary, which I’ve learned translates roughly to: what the fuck is that?

READ IT

To attain immortality, humanity must become an emotionally honest species

April 24, 2013

Creative nonfiction
Immortal Life

At the funeral, in a prosaically flat and new cemetery somewhere in suburban Maryland, she suddenly was not real, and I felt pissed about it. I was angry that death had taken Miriam and turned her into a thing in a casket. But there was no one to be angry with. My mother, Miriam’s daughter, uncomfortable with showing her emotion in any case, wore that somber, distracted expression less practiced Jews wear when they are challenged to get the recipe of rituals right. Many say, with considerable cultural pride, that this is the genius of it all; the ritual takes your mind off things.

READ IT

Shelled

Jan 23, 2013

Memoir
Toad Suck Review

For a few years, I live with a woman who, in sympathy with my poetic plight, patiently pays more than her share of the bills. I compensate, I believe, in emotional stability, as she’s tends toward imbalance. This arrangement eventually leads to our ruin; she resents my poverty, and I’m so drained by her emotional neediness I can’t write anyway.

READ IT

What does immortality look like? Vampires, Downloads and Other Distortions of our Mortal Mentality

May 20, 2013

Creative nonfiction
Immortal Life

As scientific advancements usher immorality into mainstream conversation, it's clear that immortality has an image problem; we don't know what it looks like.

READ IT

Sorting Through Two Kinds of Stupid

April 17, 2012

Personal history
Dignified Devil

Though unready to do away with my unibrow, I am somehow prepared to walk into Phoenix modeling agencies and offer my services.

READ IT