You’ve presented me with a great gift – new reviews! As an INTJ, emotion figures little in my calculations. I try, but it just doesn’t compute. But this outpouring of support is melting even my titanium heart. Thanks! Have a virtual bear hug from me to you.
From 1994-1997, I drove a Chicago cab. It was the perfect complement to a University of Chicago education. I freelanced for a large corporation, I saw the seedy underbelly of the Loop and I rubbed elbows with hardworking immigrants from two dozen different countries. One thing I learned quickly is that white cabdrivers were rare. So I wrote a poem about it (back in 1997). Here you go.
Right now, I’m reading a paper copy of the Tao Te Ching (and loving it). On my kindle, I’ve got these books open: Brave New World (kind of dense), Thus Spake Zarathustra (good stuff), The Poetic Edda (I’m working on a novel concept related to Norse mythology), The Mammoth Book of Golden Age Science Fiction (edited by Isaac Asimov), The Art of Worldly Wisdom by Baltasar Gracián and The Shadow Factory: The Ultra-Secret NSA from 9/11 to the Eavesdropping on America.
We did it again! This time, twelve authors enjoyed a meeting of the keyboards and we’ve got a thrilling 17-story science fiction anthology to show you for it. I love it. It’s exceeding my expectations. Have a look for yourself:
It was 1997 and I rented a basement room in a ground floor apartment in Chicago’s still-questionable Wicker Park neighborhood (2300 block of West North Ave) with a friendly couple and a high-class drug addict.