they said his writing was dark…wrote ’bout lost souls…unfortunate events in life…guys cheatin’ on their wives…wives taken off in the middle of the night with some guys they’d been carryin’ on with…people in poverty…desperate situations…

asked him if this was all autobiographical…if he was spillin’ his guts on the page…lettin’ all and sundry know his faults…shortcomings…wanted to know if he was some vagabond who just roamed from town to town…lookin’ for some place to call home for awhile…just awhile…

he told ’em he wrote honestly…wrote ’bout the american experience…everything from bedroom communities to small towns…big cities where commerce is king…just wrote ’bout what he saw…witnessed…in bars…homeless shelters…psych wards…bein’ a passenger in a pickup truck drivin’ on old Route 66…hearin’ different types of language…different kinds of stories…

truth is…everybody has a story to tell…,he said…,just gotta listen…