There are fifteen chapters in this book of poetry. In each chapter there are appropriately 20 to 25 poems. The chapters topics include ones exploring self, humor, places I've been, early youth, relationships with my father and mother, one on ravings, another on death, and another on personalities from work, among others. Here is one poem of the many: CHILD COUNTING Counting now. Today putting the digits together. One, two, three, four, six. No says the teacher, wrong says the teacher. One, three, four, five, six. No says the teacher, wrong says the teacher. One, two, four, five, six. Wrong...

3 story openings, 3 first person story accounts. ... I am a wife and a mother. Think I do both well. I provide for all the needs of my husband and that includes the sexual thing. Why am I bitching? Wouldn't you if you suddenly find dirty books in my husband's dresser drawer. They're not just dirty but disgusting. From DIRTY BOOKS POLISHED CLEAN..."Why is it mom, you don't talk to your sisters?" my single daughter asks. A natural question, one she's asked before. Sure she'd be curious. I have five sisters and don't speak to any of them. From: SISTERS IN ANGER AND INDIFFERENCE.... Don't think I...

Here we have a collection of fictional tales written from the perspective of a Syrian-American. The stories put a human edge to the immigrant's struggles in a new country and deals with the Arab heritage left behind. The resulting stories show the lives these immigrants and children of immigrants as they struggle to adjust in a new country. The situations in which they find themselves are sometimes sad, sometimes poignant, sometimes humorous, but always relevant.

A technocrat blessed by city virgins for profundity of wit, business acumen, adventurousness, and superiority of mind, yes, honored by society that rewards those who look to the future with an eye towards profitable accumulation of capital. The man is Robert Baydah. Married; powerful wife; one flawless child; owns penthouses and other properties on diverse continents populated by penniless natives. Everywhere powerful friends and more powerful allies. Baydah is a space-age gentleman, a product of the sophisticated science of computers in all their manifestations over centuries. Head of a...

Menopausal Musings is a collection of small novellas. Each novella follows the inner world of one character's contorted thoughts as they cope with the crisis of middle age. We observe these afflicted people as they exist at different times of day. All are urban characters who live alone in New York City. All are trapped within the walls of their apartments and trapped in their minds and unable to escape. We listen and observe as their minds twirl with hopes, dreams, bitterness, and anger. We cringe as we watch their souls cringe because of isolation from family, friends, and the rest of...

The novel opens with the thoughts of our main character, one isolated American man. "Sitting here, not so bad, the last white man in Flushing, not so bad. Being here, in this apartment, not so bad. Noise, yes, but can live with that, I think. Not so bad. But, probably, cause I keep saying, not so bad, you really think it is, bad that is. Maybe I should say something like it's tolerable. That's right, tolerable in Flushing, the last white male living, a foreigner in my own neighborhood, isolated from all. Flushing tolerable, historical, established in the seventeenth century by the Dutch Never...

What you hold readers is a book written by a newspaper reporter. I am that person, better known in literally circles as the ghost writer of the stars. It begins and ends on one extraordinary night, the night I got the biggest exclusive of my career. The story centers on one man, Joseph Kabir, the man who has committed the greatest crime of this century. Puzzled Never heard of a Joseph Kabir? The story was never released until today with this publication. Kabir, who was he? Describe him? Impossible. I cannot understand the mind of that lunatic. A puzzle who exists as a riddle. The night of...

Stories written long ago; cannot remember writing them. I was fresh from graduate school and adventures in a foreign country. My mind was filled with the thoughts of greatness, and leaving a childhood in Flushing, New York behind to conquer the world Then, I came back home, back as a writer of fiction, back to the same apartment in which I'd grown up. My father, an angry, out-of-work factory worker, was still the asshole, roared, drank, punched and ridiculed. While listening, I wrote, locked in a room, pounding keys of an old Olivetti. Soon, finished with a novel and story collection, I sent...

The book is a compilation of articles I wrote for my daily blog on Facebook. The focal point is the life of the everyday, beaten-down writer and what it takes to be a writer facing the ordinary adversities of the craft. I don't try to sugarcoat anything; instead, I attempt to let you know what it means to be a functioning writer who struggles for each word, and struggles with the lack of financial and commercial success. How does the ordinary writer who works at a mundane job by day and writes by night hold it together? How do they continue to be productive? How do they continue to inspire...

What do we have? Nonfiction? Fiction? Philosophy? Who cares We do have a man of the 20th and 21st centuries attempting to jot down his daily thoughts. We have a mental diary, or, the diary of somebody who is mental; here, here thoughts of the mental (case), rather than thoughts of the actions of the mental (case). It's a diary of a neurotic, and the neurotic is one precisely because he's not a man of action, not a person of physicality, just one whose main exercise is conjecture, speculation, and obsessive questioning. He, I, is a sportsman of his own mind. Writing about the mental grind of...