I’ve resisted writing a small squib here about my writing since it’s so central to my life, but I guess I have to put down something.

I started off writing songs, but I couldn’t for the life of me sing on key. The music chunked along, the words flowed. I loved Bob Dylan, then I discovered James Joyce and T.S. Eliot, the Dylans of their day—and writing fiction and poetry consumed me.

I wrote incessantly, then I wrote more. When I moved to Manhattan from California and started working at The New Yorker magazine, I wrote a novel in the morning before work, then stories and poems on downtime in the typing pool. (The whole experience is chronicled fictionally in a new novel, Savage Joy.)

The first thing I had published was a short poem in The New Yorker. Further stories ended up in places such as The Atlantic, The Sewanee Review, and the O. Henry Prize Story Collection.

Years ago I put my passion for music and love of literature together. I began to write what I call musical novels, fictions set in musical worlds, in prose pulsed with rhythm and rising and falling like melody. To encourage the concept of musical fiction, I founded Coral Press, devoted to the genre.

Below are links to some of my novels, followed by their covers.

Stations of the Cross, Look at Flower, Meet the Annas, Pink Cadillac, Soul Cavalcade, Cutting Time.

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