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| Posted: 25 Oct 2009 05:10 AM PDT
Itchy Donner Itchy Donner doesn’t have much going for him. A rashy eleven-year-old growing up fatherless in a dying backwoods Idaho timber town, Itchy is obsessed with the past-specifically, his family’s past. Itchy’s the great-great-great grandson of Tamsen Donner, the Donner Party’s famous matriarch, and Itchy studies his ancestor’s history with the relentlessness that only a true nerd can muster. He and his mother Irene live poor but happy in a ramshackle singlewide, and Irene encourages Itchy’s interest and pride in his illustrious ancestors. But their predictable lives are forever turned upside-down when the wandering gyppo logger Red Donner-Itchy’s blustery, larger-than-life father-blows back into town looking to make amends for his past and put his family back together again. ITCHY DONNER is a tragi-comic tale of liars and dreamers, of the distant Donner ghosts who haunt Itchy’s present, and of Itchy’s quest to understand the past, know his father, and make his family whole again.
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| Posted: 25 Oct 2009 05:05 AM PDT
Lynda’s Lie The slender framed boy stood and watched the beetle crawl across the rotted body of a dead cat. The wind gently ruffled his short black hair. He picked up a stick and poked at it. More beetles swarmed out of its body cavity. The English summer sun gently shined down on him causing a small bead of sweat to appear on his lip. Edan sat down beside the dead animal. Fascinated, he pushed one of its eyelids up and tried to pop out the cat’s glazed over eye.
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| Posted: 25 Oct 2009 05:00 AM PDT
Just Passing Through I believe there comes a time in every man’s life when he needs to stop what he’s doing and take a good look at the choices he’s made and the direction in life those choices take him. Ultimately, bad choices will lead you down the wrong path in life — nearly every time. Though sometimes, no matter how hard you try to make the right choices, fate still finds a way to somehow make you regret it. I discovered this as I lay bound by wrists and ankles in the trunk of a cherry red 1963 Corvette convertible, somewhere on Route 322 in Pennsylvania.
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