Author: Billy Reeder

Outside, bands of rain beat their autumn drums, cold and soaking, as the wind howls through the harbor and mooring lines protest and chafe against the unrelenting pressure. Sea birds huddle en masse, heads bowed in stoic reverence.

Twenty-something years of storytelling and teaching later, I found that I needed to find a new path. The path of curiosity. 

f I’m trying to focus on something, the worst possible thing I can do is introduce additional noise.  The moment I try to listen to music while reading, my brain locks up.

52 was the number on my football jersey in high school.  It seemed like such a big number back then.  And I suppose it is to a teenager with a face full of acne and a future that looks like a blank canvas.