Writing is an exercise in allowing the reader to enter your soul, those secret places that find themselves splayed across a page for you to experience, connect with, and perhaps leave with something. A good writer will make you stop in your tracks, suddenly hungry for where the words will take you and you the willing traveler. It is an art form that is beautiful and raw, poignant and entertaining.  Where else can one’s life momentarily go on hiatus and merge with the character you realize is a mirror image of yourself, or someone from your past whose memory still haunts you.  Years ago it was the pen that moved my fingers, then the clack, clack of keys with a cigarette balanced beside me and a glass of cheap wine.  Oh how the fingers dance now in the Indian Summer of my life as I weave my tale.