This fortnightly, we have a sampling of street art from Rome, and Williamsburg, Brooklyn. In the old city of Rome, Centro Storico, stickers, signs and posters are most of the street art. By that I mean, not Roman buildings and sculptures, nor the outdoor displays of Renaissance glory. I’m talking contemporary art, mostly by just people showing off or having a good time, with a dose of commerce and humor tossed in. Billy-burg, Brooklyn is a hipster ghetto and so lousy with folks showing off with all sorts of things, many with serious social and political commentary built right in. Today’s image is a toe-dip in that ocean, a tease.

Tucked away is a sign commanding you to do something a tad off color, if possible. Fun #sign, in #Rome. #streetart
Read MoreWhat will be a regular feature is a fortnightly collection of wine tasting notes, including bottle porn, and other thoughts about wine and how it fits into twenty-first-century life. This first post is a mere taste, a collection of wines my wife a
Devoured this book. Part one—CV—would be a good read for anyone, fans and the curious included. Shows of a strong sense of humor, and a real groundedness. Part two “What Writing Is” leans towards the writer, but there is good stuff for Fans too. I don’t agree with at least one of his foundational points, […]
Popping up here, again, to show that I haven’t died. And to excuse myself by revealing the several irons I have in the fire. And playing with fire is what’s been keeping me quiet, hypnotize by the jumping flames. (Anyone who remembers me from Boy Scouts would know I’m a bit of a pyro.) Okay […]
Hey there, It has been a while. Not because I’ve been hiding, or running about entertaining myself to death. I’ve been working and will have announcements on that work soon. (Two hints: when the text gets prepared for uploading to Kindle Direct Publishing, the entire text must be reworked even if it’s already been published? A tagline I’ve been […]
This is why people watch movies. Or read books. Consume anything with a story in it:
I need some help. Yours.
Because I keep finding myself saying “I hate everything” or “I’m sooooo unhappy right now,” as I sit at my computer or walk the empty hall of my apartment.
Why? I’m not writing anymore.
Yeah, sure, copywriting is writing. So are writing proposals, and this blog, and emails, and updates, and Tweets and FB posts. But this kind of writing merely needs to be done.
None of it is the kind of writing I want to do.
The kind that made me want to write in the first place, that I’m increasingly desperate to write: fiction. Telling tales of made up people living in alternate worlds, or sometimes alternate lives in our world. I want—no need—to be a guide in the Interzone—excursions to The Way Thing Might Have Been or Could Yet Be.
So an effort to right a foundering ship I’m asking for help.
Yours.
Right now.
On a recent trip to Chicago, I was interviewed by Moresby Press writer Greg Beaubien. He asked several great questions, which lead to the following conversation: The Cost of Ambition and Deceiving Ourselves: Author W. Lance Hunt Discusses His Novel A Perfect Blindness As part of the never-ending campaign to help readers who would enjoy reading A Perfect Blindness find […]