RichEisbrouch
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Everything posted by RichEisbrouch
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Thanks. And, yeah, I departed a while ago from the photos. But they gave me the seven characters, and years worth of thinking and reworking gave me the tiny parts of their lives that appear in the book. Good group to spend some time with. Glad you're having as much fun as I am. And as I've warned other people on this site: beware of some of my other books. In several of them, guys spend a lot of time with their clothes off.
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It’s not that Mary and Claire were the only women on Barnegat that summer, and it’s not that Al didn’t meet, dance with, and see other girls. Any lifeguard around there had opportunities. But the seven of us were kind of a gang, and especially on weekends, we stayed together. So it only made sense that after accepting that Claire wasn’t interested, Al would turn to Mary. She wasn’t interested, either. She loved to dance with Al and liked his quietly being there, especially as a break from th
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Al didn’t talk much about his personal life, where with Mike and Larry, it was always public and good for a laugh. And Al didn’t try very hard to find women, because there was always a certain kind who wanted to be around him. They were smart and seemed to sense the same thing about him. “But he’s not shy,” Larry said. And that was true. Most of the mornings that I was winding back to the boat with the sun coming up, it was Al and a woman who’d be sleeping on the beach. There wasn’t much pri
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Thanks. I'm working on it. I'm sometimes not sure that, in trying to stay intelligent, I keep up the pace.
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Compared with my parents, Claire’s were still very well off. And my grandparents didn’t live in a big house on the main street like Claire’s family. They had a smaller house, a couple of blocks away. And when there were empty rooms, my grandmother rented them. I also wasn’t the kind of city doctor Claire may have thought, and I didn’t plan to become one. I had a tiny office on the ground floor – which is to say three steps down – of a brownstone on West 82nd Street, midway between Amsterdam
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One of the reasons Claire wasn’t interested in Al was she was more interested in me. I kind of knew that. She’d look at me, and I could tell she was seeing something that really wasn’t there. When women got like that, I could never do much about it. So I rarely tried. A lot of what got their attention was my being a doctor – though it actually started when I was still in med school. And now, there was no denying: I had my own practice. But even calling it that made it sound too big. It w
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That there are. Thanks. I think more backstory than I've ever written, just to try to keep things in context.
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Thanks. I think it's pretty interesting, but as I mentioned, I'm still editing it, and it may be a tricky piece to find its readers.
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From soon after I met the gang, Al was trying to start something with Claire. She wasn’t interested, though I couldn’t see why. He was clearly the pick of the four. They were all smart, but Larry was a bit conservative, Mike was constantly joking, and Spence couldn’t always keep up his part of a quick conversation. By contrast, Al had all the answers, plus a goofy, really likable intensity. When he wasn’t dancing or at work, he often wore a bashed-in brown fedora, brim up, no style at all. And h
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This choice must be made compulsion. A seady stream. The temperature is whimsy. Thus, the argument dismantles. Consider the child prodigy that became of Mozart. On the other hand, the leader choosing to have the accused decapitated for a misdemeanor is an example of poor ethical standards. There is a difference between the quality of work that can be done versus the quality of work that can be done. The consequences which are initially ignored however later on their e
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Thanks. To me, it's an interesting story and connected to this site because of the period. But it may try some readers' patience.
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Thanks, and, yeah, this one's an interesting one to me. I'll be curious to see how it's received.
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Barnegat Bay is a romance, which starts on the Jersey shore in the summer of 1932. It focuses on its narrator, Doc, and his friends Mike, Larry, Al, and Spence, summer lifeguards soon headed into their senior year at CCNY -- the City College of New York. This is in the uncertain times and job market of the still early years of the Great Depression, just before Franklin Delano Roosevelt was elected. Joining the guys are Mary and Claire, local to the area but no less ambitious for their lives, and in fairly close by New York City, Doc's parents. It may initially seem an odd book for this site, but, believe me, it's not.
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Five pieces of Life In These United States or And To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street – which, by the way, was – and is – in Springfield, Massachusetts, Ted Geisel’s hometown. First, as I was driving up my block, I was faced with two cars very slowly creeping side-by-side. At first, I thought the drivers were together, lost, and talking over the situation through their open windows. Then I thought maybe one was yelling at the other for driving so slowly down the center of the nar
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This will no doubt increase the liklihoof. There is no one person exactly alike. This is potentially a lose-lost situation. Strangers that they do not even know. Accidents are the worest things in anyone’s life. Actors often use their starhood for doing good. The reason for happening these accidents are teenagers. As the saying goes: Earth is for all, and all is for Earth. Today's youth have, on average, more generations preceding them. One common example is p
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The demonography of the city. We need to recruise new employees. Least but not last. The spam of attention. The reasoning of this explanation is rather assuming. A pleasible method. It would me more soundfull. Her contrastive mindset. Techonologival reprofuction The hooby shop. Ethninities. Albeit Einstein. A famous singer like Madoona. Our fellow Planetarians. Robbin Hood was an bugglar. I should be loathed and scathed. The diversi
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And thank you again. That's always great to know. And I'm glad you mentioned the humor. Some people seem to miss that in my writing because the tone is so low key.
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Again, thanks. If you still prefer reading for plot, then after In The Plan, you may be stuck in terms of my writing. But The Pendleton Omens has a slightly younger Don Burris in it, and some sense of mystery. And Quabbin, as already mentioned, shares the same source as Tall Man Down, so you'd be going back to home ground. But Quabbin has a different sensibility and focus. Same thing with GWM, also set in Waldron. Then there's Crisscross Moon -- another semi-romance with a slight archeological mystery as its driver.
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It took the Board about a year to appoint a new president, and she came from Tech. She was in her late thirties, had created a mid-range start-up that had been bought – very expensively – by a far better established, much better known company, and she never needed to work again. But she liked the idea of coming back to Massachusetts after fifteen years of living in California, and she’d gone to Hampshire before doing grad work at Berkeley. “I’ve just always been comfortable here,” she told u
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Mary and Claire met me at the station. That had quickly become our Friday night routine. The train came in a little past nine, and we’d walk the half-dozen blocks to the boardwalk, catching up on the week while I found something to eat. I could have eaten on the train, since it was two hours with almost nothing to do. But I’d rather sleep. “Easy ride down?” Mary would ask. Claire simply kissed me on the cheek, more a peck than anything. “I dozed through most of it.” “Good,” Mary said
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Sometimes things don’t turn out the way you expect. I always thought I’d wind up an old bachelor, the kind of man people respectfully described as being “married to his work.” It was a euphemism, of course, and maybe not entirely true. But those were the times, and what did I know? It was the summer of 1932, and I was nearly thirty, going on eighteen. So very damned young.
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Yep, I know that. But it's not a thrilling murder mystery. It's a half-humorous novel about small group of people at a New England college. That's why there's still another chapter. And thanks again for reading.
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“The guys from Boston were impressed,” Don told Pete and Noah. We were having dinner. We were home. Josh was smiling in his highchair. I wasn’t the least bit tired, though I certainly should have been. “Stop gloating,” Pete told me. “I’m not.” “You’re grinning enough,” Noah agreed. “I’m trying not to.” “You still need to explain some things,” Pete continued. “Only some?” “Now you’re leering,” Noah pointed out. I tried to frown, but it didn’t work, and
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Yep: me dirty rat. Thanks.
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I was in the middle of demonstrating to my design class how hard it was to sometimes explain things. I did this by perverting one of my student’s instructions about how to put on my jacket, and I had it upside down, partly inside out, half over my head, and with my left arm in the right sleeve, when I finally became the monkey who saw the stick, the box, and the hanging bananas all at the same time. It was like working again for the Japanese designer I’d studied with in grad school. He had
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