Twenty-five years ago this morning, I was standing on the roof of my apartment building in Hoboken, watching as the second of the twin towers fell across the river in Manhattan. Though I’ve recalled the day many times over the years, and even written a short story about those events, I have come to accept how much I don’t recall, how much, in fact, I did not bother to record. That’s fine for civilians, but when you’re a reporter and writer, you’re supposed to…

I tend not to show my anger. It’s a blessing and a curse. When I do blow my top, it’s usually at something in the publishing industry, ensuring that the only people who ever witness it are my poor wife or fellow writers. This has earned me the nickname Angry Joe in some circles. Angry Joe reared his ugly head earlier this week when something in the local community set me off, and I felt compelled to write an email that I’ll never send. As I explain in my SleuthSayers article this week, this is in a grand tradition that includes such writers as Abraham Lincoln and Ben Franklin…

Dean Wesley Smith is an incredibly prolific writer. He writes with his cats. I write with my pooch. Dean is adept at writing into the dark at speed. In other words, he does not outline his work before writing and sets for himself some remarkable word—count challenges. In a book of his I recently read, Writing With the Waltese Falcon, he shows us how he wrote three books—one in ten days, one in seven, and one in five while traveling on vacation. That’s incredible. In a column I share on SleuthSayers, the mystery blog, this week, I do a quick overview of the book and then share the story of my one and only experiment writing at speed. I’ve shared that story on this blog a few years ago.

I’ve been on the road with my wife Denise Kiernan as she visits bookstores and promotes her new book, Obstinate Daughters, about the women behind the American Revolution. The experience of being on the road together to sell copies of a RevWar book brought back a ton of memories—going as far back as childhood. “I have been here before, and before, and before,” is all I keep thinking. Why? In 1976…

There’s a book about writing that I re-read every year. It does not teach whole lot of craft. But it does speak to the heart. It will probably speak to you, if you care about writing. It’s a classic book written by Brenda Ueland called If You Want to Write (affiliate link). I cannot remember how or when I first learned about it, but my wife and I bought a paperback copy ages ago, read and enjoyed it, and have re-read it over the years and even handed out copies to fellow writers as well. It’s an inspirational book first…

I attended a college graduation recently and got strangely emotional before the ceremony began. I started analyzing why, and I finally landed on the fact that I love learning, and haven’t stopped doing so, really, since I was a kid. I took out a notebook, started jotting down some thoughts, and before long I had the makings of an article on the topic that dips into nostalgia, yes, but also touches on a prophecy made by one of my professors way back in…

I have too many books, and I’ve grown to accept that I always will. When I first started reading, I always finished books that I bought or borrowed before buying another one. This used to be an unspoken rule of mine. It just felt like the smart thing to do. But somehow I took a wrong turn. It happened after college when I was living on my own. Slowly, I started buying books that I intended to read, brought them home, stuck them on a shelf somewhere, and never…

Yes, I know it is 2026, and the holidays are technically behind us. But our house and front yard are still festooned with decorations, and I don’t think I’ve taken enough photos of the Christmas Village that took so much effort to put up this year. So when it came time to write a post for SleuthSayers, the mystery blog, this week, my head was still stuck on Christmas. In one of my first posts of the new year, I always try to share some sort of inspirational message for writers. Today I am sharing an anecdote of how I came to write my first published story, and the strange thing that happened immediately afterward.

You can read my article at this link. It is called…

This will date me. I majored in magazine journalism in college, intending to work for big glossy magazine back when they were still relevant. The biggest and richest still are. The smaller ones struggle, or have evaporated. Still, I’m amazed by the variety of publications I see when I open the Apple News app on my phone, or scroll the magazines available via my Magzter app. I love browsing the magazine racks at Barnes & Noble, or Hudson News when I’m passing through airports. But seriously, how many of us know where we can find a solid newsstand anymore? They used to be ubiquitous when print was king.

About a decade after I went freelance, my old writing professor asked me to speak to his class of magazine journalism students. We kept trying to find time when I’d be able to fly up from North Carolina to Syracuse. I never did. But I did write the following memo, which I sent, and he distributed to his students. I offer now because beyond that one sharing, it’s never seen the light of day…

I’ve been recommending this essay for years to every writer I know. And it’s free to read online…