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They were together in the bed in his room every weeknight for over a year, feeding on each other like prisoners downing their rations. Weekends were work nights, the only gigs he could get, and she was too young for the clubs, Read the rest of this entry »

We can’t just weep on paper and call it Book of Tears. We can’t just stab the book and call it Rage, but certain stories are more physical fact than art. Read the rest of this entry »

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299-WORD NOVELS

Character, conflict, emotional impact. And sentences! Everything you want in a novel, without one extra syllable.

Behind the Pseudonym

The pen name davidbdale honors my mother Beatrice (Bea) and my father Dale

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