Sick love sad love saved by love.

Family Tradition originated a couple of decades ago. I wrote a story about a family of psychopaths reuniting around the death of their despised and abandoned patriarch and the love they hated for each other. At least I thought I wrote a story like that. Upon rereading the cacophony of manuscripts – I rewrote it fifteen times or something – I found cheap humor and vague sentiment and cheap humour and honest effort and inspiration and confusion but not enough love. The clarity of love. The weight of love.

So. This book is an effort to rectify that situation.

I added the love. All the love. Kept the cheap humor. And lunacy. And the irritating lack of commas. Have I mentioned I hate the little pricks? And I tried to figure out what I was getting at when I wrote it to begin with. Not that I think what I’m getting at is important. I think what I’m getting at is irrelevant. But it is the point of my own creative journey. I think when you’re younger you ask your creative machine questions that it’s not yet sophisticated enough to answer. It’s only with experience and failure and victory and hard work and perseverance and belief and dedication and hopelessness and humility and humiliation and 20- 30 – 40 years that you begin to figure out what you thought you knew to begin with.

Family Tradition.

A black comedy. A fuck up. A giggle.

All the love.

Where failure is a halo.

Available in the Kindle Store worldwide in Paperback and Ebook.

https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B07CKLYX7R

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