The Core of a Protagonist

April 6, 2018 by 2 Comments

We were talking with friends the other night, and I mentioned I was reading a Jack Reacher novel. This produced an immediate outburst regarding the movie and our friend’s opinion that Tom Cruz was all wrong for the role. He was great in Top Gun, but just wrong for Reacher.

I’ve heard this conviction before. Several times. As in the past, I suggested Jim Caviezel, who plays the role of the tall, quiet man in a suit in the Person of Interest series, for the role of Jack Reacher. Our friends immediately agreed, he would be fine. I’ve heard this before, too. The way everyone seems to agree on this matter intrigues me. It’s not that they have been saying Tom Cruz doesn’t do a good acting job, but rather that he isn’t Jack Reacher. When I press the issue, I usually hear that Cruz is not tall enough. Well, size is certainly a major part of Jack Reacher’s character, but I insist there is more. He’s a street fighter who has won most of his fights. He has fought all his life. He had to. And, as an Army MP, he’s had to stand up to a range of opponents in his military career. He has. Without concern for the outcome. It’s part of who he is. Tough. Principled. With his own code for behavior and no room for deviation or hesitation no matter the consequences. Even if the consequences alienate him from everyone and everything he has enjoyed, mainly the Army. And, it shows. It’s part of his core.

 Tom Cruz could play Top Gun, because that role called for a young, dare devilish man with a great smile and irrepressible charm. That’s not Reacher. John Reese (Jim Caviezel) in Person of Interest is tall, athletic with mature good looks, but seems isolated from everyday society. He carries a dark side born from a painful past. Caviezel brings the necessary mystique required to fulfill the part of Jack Reacher. He could achieve this requisite core of the Reacher character.

Naturally, my own thoughts after this discussion leaped to writing. Not all characters are written with a deep and essential core in mind. For me, these characters are less memorable in the same way some stories entertain for the moment and are quickly forgotten. I like those with a main character who is memorable and has depth. That’s also what I want for my own protagonist. I like it when readers find Bobby Navarro memorable, and when they do I think it has something to do with who Bobby is at his core.

Bobby is written as a biker who rides alone, he is not part of a club or gang. However, the highway, not the Harley, is at the core of who Bobby Navarro is. Bobby rides into town as an outsider. Eventually, he will leave town again—once he has fulfilled his obligation to the victim. He is at home on the road, and that is where he seems destined to remain. The highway is in his blood, and colors his soul. It is essential to his core.

What core characteristics define your favorite protagonists? And, who do you like for Jack Reacher?

 

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Books, Motorcycles, Rural Florida, Village Life, writing

Managing Memories and Memorabilia

March 23, 2018 by Leave a Comment

A friend of ours is getting ready to move after twenty years or more in the same house. I’ve been through that process. It’s astounding how much accumulates over that length of time. It amounts to a lot of work. There are the forays for packing boxes, yard sales to set up, things to take to Goodwill, and hours to spend sorting though everything. However, from an outsider point of view, it’s like catching glimpses of someone’s life never suspected before. Memorabilia from times we’ve heard about but briefly, and otherwise didn’t share.

It also made me think about my series protagonist. I don’t see Bobby Navarro accumulating boxes, closets and rooms filled with stuff to be disposed of someday. After all, he spends his travel time on the back of his Harley. One doesn’t accumulate a lot of souvenirs riding a motorcycle. An old helmet, maybe a worn leather vest or pair of boots. Perhaps a tee-shirt with the Route 66 logo on the back. Not boxes of nearly forgotten things tucked away, out of sight for years. There must be a few things though. Something from his days in the Marine Corps? A piece of camping gear no longer used, but not discarded? An old knife? I wonder. He lives in a furnished apartment. He could probably throw all his belongings into sea bag or large duffel. It’s fun to speculate as to what he might hang onto.

The thing is, these artifacts of our existence were important to us at one point, and trigger memories about who we have been and the roads we have traveled. In that context, it’s important that our fictional heroes have a past, a collection of events and encounters that helped define them in the same way a prop room contains elements from past theatrical sets that made a former play come to life. Remnants of our past were props constructing who we were and help explain who we have become. However, as writers, we have to be careful how we bring forth the past belonging to our protagonists; a little bit can go a long way. Dredging up the old memories of our characters can easily become an unwanted data dump. It’s tricky. At the same time, a little glimpse into the past life of our protagonists can give them depth and add to the things that make them real and interesting. I wonder what memories Bobby will uncover if he ever does go through his accumulated belongings, however meager the stockpile.

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Books, Motorcycles, Reading, Village Life, writing

The Second Rule of Writing

February 24, 2018 by 4 Comments

For cozy mysteries, the first expectation I usually hear is the story must be set in a small town or village. The second is that the protagonist is an amateur sleuth. Now, in real life it seems unlikely a murder would be solved by an everyday person who becomes curious, gets involved and solves the murder. That’s okay. I’ve understood for a long time that a suspension of disbelief is part of enjoying an amateur sleuth novel. No problem. I enjoy Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple, for example. She has a curious disposition, and it’s both part of her charm and a reason for her involvement.  Most of her sleuthing amounts to eavesdropping and applying her considerable wit. Over time, she has gained a reputation for her abilities, and people ask for her help. You see? No problem–however tenuous this scenario might be in real-life.

On the other hand, I recently put down a book I’ve been trying to get into, and I probably won’t pick it back up. Over-all, the story is well-written. The reader can have fun making guesses as to what’s coming, but the story is sure to play out with unexpected twists and turns, and some of the early scenes are filled with suspense. Problem is, I just don’t think the protagonist had believable reason to become that involved in the first place. The deeper the involvement, the less believable it becomes, and the harder it is to develop liking and concern, or caring, for the protagonist.

When I began learning the basics of writing it seemed there were myriad rules to be religiously adhered to. After a while I got used to that. Until now, I had pretty much taken it for granted that an amateur sleuth must be given a credible reason for his or her involvement in a murder investigation. I remember an editor asking about my protagonist’s reason for involvement when I was pitching an early novel. I felt a great sense of relief when I could give a good answer, but I knew beforehand that a good reason needed to be there.  Now, I understand why. It makes all the difference. Coming across a novel that appeared to violate this basic principle has been an epiphany. 

In the book I was attempting to read, a small voice in the back of my mind kept challenging each unfolding scene with the question of why the hero was doing what he was doing. Not surprisingly, his involvement became riskier and more suspenseful as the story progressed. But for me, it didn’t progress. It just kept getting more unbelievable. That small voice got louder. The frustration of trying to suspend disbelief grew and was ruining the story for me. The hero just wasn’t believable.

I think most of us who are writers have spent many hours learning the craft. When someone hasn’t, that fact usually stands out when you read what they have written. I’ve encountered this over and over when reading something written by a writer still in the novice stage. When it happens, it reinforces the rules of the craft, and I try to help the writer learn them. The book I was reading that set this train of thought into motion was not written by a beginner with great potential. He is well-established and a good writer—usually. For me, this was a glaring discovery of what happens if the basic expectation of the need for a reason for involvement is missing or breaks down.

I wonder how many others have discovered the importance of some basic tenet of writing by encountering an established author’s failing to follow it in some instance. Have you had a disappointing experience reading the work of an author who should have known better? Any pet peeves to share?

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Books, Reading, writing

Zen, Archery, Fly-fishing, Motorcycles and Writing

February 9, 2018 by 2 Comments

One of my sons was talking about archery the other day and described shooting his new longbow in terms suggestive of a Zen experience. He is an instinctive shooter, as am I, which means that the aim and release is a subconscious process rather than mechanical alignment and control of machinery. Struggling for adequate descriptive terminology starts to sound a bit flaky, but the archer experiences the event instead of deliberately committing the act. It’s far different from lining up the sights and target using a compound bow constructed with wheels, pulleys, and cams. The reward is that it provides the archer a Zen-like aesthetic experience.

While I’m only a beginner, I think fly fishing offers similar relief from the cacophony of everyday life in modern society. There is something meditatively rewarding and peaceful in presenting a fly at a desired spot on a burbling trout stream. You can escape the high powered motors of a fishing boat throttled-up to cover the next twenty five or fifty miles to an intended fishing area as quickly as possible. You can simply enter a stream in a pair of waders then carefully move toward a likely spot without alerting or disturbing any trout lurking ahead,. When you do you feel more in touch with fishing as it has occurred over millennia and less deluded with a sense of having power over nature. The fishing becomes a Zen-like experience.

Things I’ve read about Zen often seem paradoxical. You have to abandon yourself and give up trying to be in control of your bit of the world in order to find yourself and the truth of what is. But then, much of what I’ve encountered in life has been paradoxical—good/bad—win/lose—right/wrong. In literature, I think interesting fictional characters are complex, and such complexity reflects the paradoxical and dual nature of our universe. They are not all one thing. Heroes are good, but not entirely good. Villains are bad, but not completely bad.

But, you can’t simply toss a contradictory set of behaviors into a story and end up with a more interesting character. The complexity must emerge from some underlying truth about the character. I suspect that emergent truth is often discovered by the writer as well as the reader rather than planned at the outset. In a sense, the writer must discover and experience the story as well as write it. More paradox.

Of course, a writer must dutifully sit at the keyboard and write, but you cannot wring a good story from a mind crammed with rules and literary prescriptions by sheer force. You have to lose yourself in the story to write a good one. The Zen of writing? Perhaps so. When it happens, it feels real and truthful, and that is a very precious experience to have these days.

I remember leaving the fast-multi-lane freeways and putting the tires of my motorcycle on the narrow, undulating pavement of old Route 66 on a book promotion tour for my first novel, Murder on Route 66. I felt an instant sense of being in touch with the fields and ranches alongside the roadway, more in tune with the skies overhead, the smells of the fields I passed, and the cool shade thrown onto the road by trees growing close alongside. I had let go of my schedule and purpose and became more in touch with both it and myself. I remember taking a deep breath of air, smiling at how good I suddenly felt, and how fortunate I was to be on that ride. I knew my series protagonist Bobby Navarro had that side to him as well. I knew it was something I wanted to be able to communicate in the stories I would write about his adventures on the road. Riding Route 66 wasn’t about overcoming the traffic ahead or powering past a row of eighteen wheelers blocking my lane. There was no traffic. There was no hurry either. By slowing down, I captured some of the magic and allure of that old, iconic highway I had pushed hard to reach.

Writing a story is a tremendous amount of work, but it is also rewarding when the words set down on the pages reveal the story you have been struggling to bring to life. Paradoxically, it is sometimes when you let go of your attempted control and let the story emerge that the tale you’re trying to write appears. The Zen of writing? What are your thoughts?

 

Upstate Trout Stream

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Books, Motorcycles, Outdoor living, Reading, Village Life, writing

The Waiting Game

January 26, 2018 by 2 Comments

This week included a day when my wife and I had several appointments that involved a lot of waiting. It made me think about how much time we spend waiting and the many situations requiring that we wait. Those of us who have commuted to work in a large city are all too familiar with waiting in traffic or waiting for a bus, train or airplane. Anyone who shops in a supermarket knows about waiting in a checkout line. Most of us probably try to shorten the wait time by seeking the shortest line. If you’re like me, the shortest line gets held up by some glitch just after we join it.

And, how about waiting in a telephone queue? I’ve spent hours in this situation. Sometimes it seems like anytime I call a customer service number I’d better be ready to wait an interminable amount of time while the automated system runs through all the announcements and options available before I’m given a chance to seek whatever service I’m after. Then I must wait forever in a queue while some recorded messages assure me my call is important. Our ancestors had to wait for rain, or for the crops to ripen. That took months, but at least it made a lot more sense than the waiting we are put through today.

Of course, there are things I can do to make the waiting time more enjoyable or productive, such as taking a book along when I visit the doctor’s office. Of course, nowadays we have books available on our cellphones. That’s handy. But, waiting for highway delays to clear, or at traffic signs? That’s another story. Although, come to think of it, I’ve seen people reading while sitting behind the steering wheel of their car. I don’t recommend the practice. Unfortunately, people are all too likely to be texting on their cellphones while driving, walking, or even sitting at a table in a restaurant while presumably enjoying a meal with someone.

I hate it when the car in front of me fails to take advantage of a green light because the driver is on a cellphone. I hate it when someone sitting behind a desk or counter is texting on their cellphone instead of doing whatever their job calls for while I stand there waiting. I suppose I could just take out my own cellphone and busy myself while I wait. Maybe I could call the person on the other side of the desk or counter and let them know I’m waiting.

I used to look forward to reading magazines while waiting in a doctor’s office. They used to provide magazines. They might have been old issues, but they were still entertaining, and I might not have seen them. Now, I notice a lot of waiting rooms only have magazines offering information about available services. Sometimes there are no magazines, only a television with infomercials playing while you wait. I’d be happy to settle for an old issue of a magazine at this point.

With all my thoughts about having to wait, I suppose I should feel guilty about subjecting my series protagonist, Bobby Navarro, to waiting. I do though, but not too often. I think he should have to wait in line at the supermarket occasionally just like we do. Years ago, I had nearly completed an all-day ride on my motorcycle when traffic came to a halt. Naturally, it started to rain. I got soaked. Needless to say, I’ve let Bobby get wet a time or two as well. It’s only fair.

What pet peeves do you have about waiting? Any favorite stories? And what do you do to handle the waiting game?

 

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Books, Motorcycles, Outdoor living, Reading, Rural Florida, Self-improvement, Village Life, writing

Where Have All Those Resolutions Gone?

January 12, 2018 by Leave a Comment

It’s the middle of January, and my understanding is that half the New Years resolutions have been abandoned. I’m proud to say this is not the case with mine. I decided to be careful what I resolved to do and pick something I might have a real chance of accomplishing. To that end, I came up with a short list of things I wanted to resolve, but put off the final selection and commitment until now. That way I wouldn’t overshoot reality in the frenzied days of New Year celebration and set out to do something I had little chance to achieve. So, while others have given up already, I’ve just begun. Pretty clever, don’t you agree?

I really like making New Years resolutions. I guess I’m an eternal optimist, believing people can improve. Not that many seem to. This New Year season seemed to generate a larger than usual number of articles on how to make and keep resolutions. I have to say, no one I read came up with the approach I took, however. In general, advice seemed to center on laying out specific, attainable goals. I think that may be part of the reason people have already given up on their resolutions. With such specific goals to live up to, it’s easy to see right away that one has failed. If I had resolved to lose two pounds a week, I’d certainly be able to tell by now that I’d been a miserable failure. I gained a bunch over the holidays. No, I’m much better off resolving to recover the body I used to have, back when I could eat anything and not gain an ounce.  Instead of facing failure at not having lost a couple of pounds, I still have my goal to look forward to achieving—someday. In fact, think I should celebrate. Ice cream anyone?

That brings up another point, rewards. Those articles I read mentioned a reward system for good performance. In my case, being able to eat anything I want without gaining weight is reward enough. I love to eat. I don’t need other reinforcement. I admit I don’t have that ideal body back yet, but I haven’t given up. You see, I don’t have to say I’ve failed. Without specific, measurable goals I’m better able to maintain the vision and stay the course. Not that I don’t expect difficulties ahead. I am willing to be realistic, after all. I’m aware that I ought not to go clothes shopping just now, for example. A lot of the clothes I might like to buy are either too snug, or pooch out over my belly. Actually, I have lots of those clothes I’d like to wear already—in my closet. They’ve been there for years. I keep waiting. . .

I wonder what my series protagonist, Bobby Navarro, would have resolved if he gave in to the New Year pressures to do so. Certainly, he wouldn’t need to resolve to take another great cross-country ride on his Harley. That is something that is just going to happen. And, resolving not to get involved in another murder investigation would be useless, too. You and I know that’s going to happen as well. And, he doesn’t need to worry about his weight. He manages to stay in great shape all the time.

 So, fellow New Years resolutionists, how are you doing? If you’ve had trouble keeping your resolutions, it’s not to late to take up the approach I used, and enjoy the success I expect to have someday. Share your thoughts?

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Books, dieting, Motorcycles, Rural Florida, Self-improvement, Village Life, writing

A Poem for the New Year

December 29, 2017 by Leave a Comment

It’s a naval practice to write the New Year’s log in verse.
That can be good.
Although, sometimes it’s worse.
So, I’m keeping the tradition,
Although I cannot say
Whether this particular rendition
Will carry the day.

It was not my intent
To leave out so many
Troublesome events
From the world and at home.
But that would amount to a book.
A very big tome.
I couldn’t stand to write it
Too long for a poem

And, it wouldn’t have read well
So, I did what I could
And, as for the rest, well…
You can read it. And comment
And I hope that you do.
And thanks for your visit
And sharing, if you do.

So, the new year’s upon us
The holidays about over.
But, despite the promise, we’re not
Knee deep in clover.
We can’t tell our children
Things soon will be better.
That floods will let up,
And dry places get wetter.
We’re just left with alternative facts to arrange,
And truth to deny
Like, the climate won’t change.

But, politics aside…
I know for many, this year’s been quite a ride.
I feel pretty lucky not to have died.
So, good people, I wish you all well.
And, those others I allude to, they can just go to hell.

‘Round the world it’s been Murder, rape and plunder.
Terror attacks from Europe to Down Under.
Victories exclaimed over cities devastated,
Children starving. Hordes evacuated.
People fleeing. Many turned away
From one wall or another
Father. Brother. Child. Mother.

It’s not peace and good will
We’re bringing to each other
When we even do battle
Over the definition of one’s lover.
So, lock your doors. Board up your chimney.
‘Tis no time to get jolly.
Not this season, by Jiminy
And stay away from Santa,
At the office soiree
He thinks he has privileges
And can do what he may.

Think about it. . .
When for strangers or brothers.
We show no respect,
When the keepers of our country
To the dark side defect,
It’s time to talk and to listen
Time to rekindle some light.
So good luck to us all.
And, for now, a good night.

Our cat asleep or at prayer

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Rural Florida, Uncategorized, Village Life, writing

Values in Today’s Life

December 1, 2017 by 2 Comments

The other day I was talking with one of my sons, and he mentioned bingeing on 007 movies. His comments about them surprised me. He said it was incredible to see how women were depicted and regarded as mere objects. He had watched the same movies as a kid, but then saw the films as all about action, excitement and adventure. We agreed, the old James Bond movies had a lot of Playboy character to them. He commented they were so bad and blatant they were comical in a way. I hadn’t joined him in the binge, and haven’t seen a 007 movie in a long time, but could agree even from memory. He attributed his change in perspective to all the recent news revealing sexual harassment on the part of male celebrities and men in positions of power. I think that’s a good outcome of the attention these accusations have gained in recent news. We need to re-see the behaviors and values we grew up with, have lived with, and have taken for granted. Those old movies not only dramatized a sexist view of the world, they normalized sexist behavior. Seeing those old scenes as violating the rights and dignity of women is a great wake-up. I hope we men carry today’s condemnation of female harassment on the part of popular and powerful men into everyday life and relationships ourselves. I doubt any of us are completely guilt free. We have a lot of work to do in our society, and men and women must be onboard together to truly make progress. We are not going to get there by means of example from our public leaders; we must get there from a shift in our social values.

It should be no surprise that I enjoy reading mysteries; after all, I write them. Similar to cozies, I prefer mysteries that stay away from gratuitous sex and violence. I don’t care for drama that relies on piquing a reader’s interest through brutality, gore and raw abuse of others. Those things exist in life, but they don’t have to be accepted and we don’t have to normalize them in our literature. A good mystery has conflict. Murder is always violence against another person, but we don’t have to make that aspect the object of the story.  We have values opposing the abuse of others. That’s why people want to solve the mystery and bring the culprit to justice and restore the community to safety.

When I write my Bobby Navarro mysteries, I like to think my fascination with community comes through in my writing along with my love of the open road and wild, natural places. Those things should predominate. Bobby Navarro solves murders. That means people have suffered horrible abuse and their community has suffered the trauma of trampled values because the murders took place. In the end, however, decent values win. The victory of human decency doesn’t make the stories fiction. After all, good fiction reflects facts. Human decency is not a fiction, but it must be fought for and insisted on to make it dominate in our lives. But, that seems a reasonable societal goal and a good reason for writing.

 

 

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Books, Motorcycles, Outdoor living, Reading, Rural Florida, Village Life, writing

Thinking About Thanksgiving

November 18, 2017 by 2 Comments

Like many of us, I have many memories of Thanksgiving celebrations, some pleasant, others not. I recall feasting until I could hold no more. And, I can almost taste the turkey and pumpkin pie. I remember our house filled with relatives and vibrant with a festive air. Somewhere along the way, I was made personally aware of the mountain of dirty dishes and pots and pans that accompanied holiday get-together. It gave me some perspective. I came to better realize how much work my mother put into those events.

Of course, there were the usual conflicts and competitions between this and that relative, whose kids were doing best in school, or were getting married, or was prettier. Who had a good year financially, who was drinking too heavily. But, I was young, and it was just fun to see the cousins and enjoy the get-together.

Not all my holidays came with a houseful of people. Not all celebrations reflected a sense of affluence. Some were poignant in their absence of a bountiful year to celebrate. I learned a different basis for thanksgiving in those years. It wasn’t just a huge feast that made the day. A chance for camaraderie and sharing of what was available became important.

When I was in the Navy, the cooks on our ship did a great job of putting out a wonderful meal for the holiday, in port but away from home. One time, I heard the cook express his hurt and frustration when much of the crew chose to eat ashore at a favorite bar instead of eating on board with their “Navy family”. I felt badly for him. He had turned out a great, traditional holiday feast. I learned a holiday like Thanksgiving depends on what participants bring to the table, as well as what food is there to eat.

One of my most memorable Thanksgiving celebrations was with a houseful of people I had not met before. We were in the Los Angeles area, and we were all apart from family that year, so someone sent out invitations to bring people together for a celebration anyway. I loved it. People were interesting and their company enjoyable. Everyone appreciated the opportunity to get together, and did what they could to make the occasion fun and successful. It worked extremely well. These days, many of us find ourselves in some sort of isolation—personally, politically, socially, financially. Maybe that’s why we talk about Turkey Day, rather than Thanksgiving, and Black Friday savings opportunities are more exciting than a gathering for appreciation and togetherness.

I can’t help but think about Bobby Navarro at holiday time, and think I’d like to write a Bobby Navarro novel that includes a holiday setting. I’d like to follow his thoughts and feelings. Would he miss being on the road? Would he feel an increased longing for home? Or, would he just enjoy the day?

What are your most memorable Thanksgiving experiences? Love to hear your thoughts and share your memories.

 

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Uncategorized, Village Life, writing

A High and Distant Ridge

November 10, 2017 by 2 Comments

 

When I sit on our front porch and look out, I love seeing the ridge on the other side of the highway leading out of town. We’re heading south for the winter. I’ll miss it. The evergreens at the summit have thinned out, and I can see patches of sky through them. The hardwood trees lower down have shed their leaves and bare limbs reveal things hidden away behind a green canopy all summer. At times, cloud masses have blanketed the ridge entirely. In other moments, cloud and fog have floated up the hillside like smoke escaping into the sky. Sometimes, dark thunderclouds have carried a threat of rain.

When I was growing up in California, looking out across the ridges of hills toward the west provoked a sense of longing. Often, that longing was for the adventures I felt awaited, perhaps in far corners of the world. Sometimes as a teenager, the longing had to do with more immediate associations. It was in the valley, where I got together with my high school associates, went to football games and after-game dances. New delights at the time, like an A&W Root Beer drive-in and a Foster’s Freeze soft ice cream stand offered oases of pleasure to any kid with a car. Delights waiting in the valley.

I’ve seen many distant ridges, and crossed them to their other sides. The Blue Ridge Mountains, the steep hills coming out of Virginia into North Carolina and highway 40 west. The land settles into rolling hills once past Tennessee and into Arkansas and Oklahoma. Then it flattens into a great open expanse punctuated by distant mesas as you go through New Mexico and Arizona.

I’ve never tired of the beauty of a distant ridge, never failed to feel its lure. A distant ridge makes me want to put my fate into a new cross-country run, even down an old highway.

Driving through New YorkI don’t know that everyone feels this way when they see a high ridge in the distance. I suspect many don’t. For me, it’s a feeling that something almost magical lies just over the hills. It’s a sense of new discovery being within my grasp. An editor I was talking with some years ago heard me remark that looking for home was what kept my protagonist on the road. She insisted I stop and write that down immediately. I did. It captures an essential aspect of Bobby Navarro, along with his insistence that there be some morality and justice in the world. I’d love to hear what sights tug at the emotions of other people, and in the case of other writers, what compels their characters to step into another adventure or solve another murder.

Driving through New York

Filed Under: Back to basics, blog posts, Books, Outdoor living, Reading, Village Life, writing