I call myself a humanist. To me this means acting as a champion of anything that would build our kind up, and an enemy toward all who would belittle their fellow man for their own purposes. Perhaps this helps explain why my instincts led me to the Holocaust and its literature by the tender age of ten.
Of course, being a child of the 60’s only strengthened those instincts in that I grew up sensitive to the darker side of the status quo. If any four things could be said to characterize not only my outlook on life but my writing, they’d be my hatred of hypocrisy, meanness for meanness’ sake, blind obedience to authority, and cowardice in the face of injustice.
I like to think of my The Trumpets of Jericho: A Novel as a story so larger than life, so human, that once read it will become a permanent part of you. I live by myself just east of Austin, Texas, a magnet of a city for the freethinking young, or in my case, the young at heart. I recently moved here to be near my loving son, his beautiful wife, and my four truly special grandchildren. For that alone, I count myself among the lucky.
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“When the axe came into the forest, the trees said the handle is one of us.” — Alice Walker
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