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Smithology: Gone away

Years ago, my mother drove a Volvo 240. An automatic wagon, navy blue, bought new in 1985. A car you used to see everywhere, dotting freeways and side streets, right up until you didn’t, on that day when they all seemingly disappeared into junkyards to rust away. Gone, at least from daily sight ...


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There isn’t much anyone can say that helps with grief. In the words of a man I greatly admire (Andrew Klavan), grief is a desert you have to cross on foot. It’s slow and painful, and all you can do is put one foot in front of the other until you’re across.


I can’t say enough how much I appreciate the heart and soul you pour into your writing. You’re one of the greats. 

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