A green light to greatness.®


The heart of the nest

Two Christmases before the cat in the shrubbery incident, a handsome red male cardinal, and his plump grey wife with her orange comb and lipsticked beak came to visit. They often sat at the edge of the yard on the fence while my husband and I watched, enchanted, reading into their visits the most promising of reasons.

The three questions

No vivid colors, no pretty oil paintings of roses or still-life apples. Only black and white images: portraits, cityscapes, formless abstractions, the occasional nude figure, gathered over the years from his travels, depicting every conceivable facet of life, and transforming his office into a living, breathing Rorschach.

Lessons from Archer City

But if you’re a writer, you can’t pick up the phone and call for help. You wait. You stick out your thumb. You feel a nervous excitement mixed with uncertainty. Will I get there? How long will it take? What if I get stuck?

Teens rule

This is just a municipal courthouse in the suburbs of Fort Worth, after all, not a high-security federal courthouse. Or a prison. That’s the idea: Start them out here in Teen Court, in a civil and respectful environment, and maybe they won’t end up there.

The trip to nowhere

Ten minutes pass. Then twenty. No giggling. No comfortable numbness. No nothing. Unaware that the stuff takes at least a half hour to kick in, we figure we got ripped off.


Will’s secret is mine as well, and it’s slowing destroying us both. I am addicted to a junkie, and I’m becoming a junkie myself.


“I got your back, Bro.” It was our manifesto. We said it to each other at blackjack tables, on dangling rock climbs, in alleys in dark, exotic locales.