Adam Phillips

A couple of online friends have a falling-out; one of them caves and makes a drastic decision.

Well...obviously the Prologue sets a tone, and the narrative's gonna have to get Andy back to that condo as he concludes his memories. And the tone of the Prologue is bittersweet, there's no denying it. But I think I can promise nobody is going to want to slit their wrists by the time it's all done. ;-)

"I don't know, Angie, it's like the more I talk, the less I can explain it. I just needed you to know, and if you can't handle it, I get it, I mean, we haven't been back together that long and if it seems to you like I'm being whatever or like I don't love you or I'm cheating on you or if it makes you think I'm secretly…I mean, I guess I don't have to have him in—"She squeezed her eyes shut, let out a frustrated chuckle, and groaned, "Andy, would you just chill out, take a breath, and shut up a

Enrikay (and others who've asked), "Brian" wrote a postscript to ISWB a while back and asked that it be posted. It'll update you on him and Chris. It's here: It Started With Brian, postscript

We'll see, Cjay, right? Our house is being repainted on the inside and re-floored. It's a long project and everything is in disarray. My computer is not up right now. As SOON as things are back to normal, I'll get back onto CC. I have almost finished the next chapter and will have it posted before mid-month, hopefully.

I've had some distractions for the past couple of months. I'll get on Crosscurrents next week and see if we can't get this dang thing finished by the end of summer.

This story is not over, comicfan. There are about 4 more chapters to go.

For what it's worth, there are several chapters more to go in Crosscurrents. --Adam

Ruben's parents had always been a light touch; the first week in June was out of the question, but I managed to get the condo for the third weekend in May, plus the following Monday. I called Matt and told him he could pick up a key from Ruben's dad at his place of business when he got into town; I'd do the same when I got home. Matt wasn't sure when he'd be moving back down, but he told me he'd let me know he was home when he hit town. With that detail taken care of, I focused on acing my

I wasn't on the market, and I wasn't in the market, either. I was tired of it. Sick of it. As I looked back on all of it, it made me a little queasy. What the hell had I been thinking? I hadn't been thinking, of course. I'd been running from something. And I'd been using drinking and drugging and sexing and raising hell to put roadblocks between myself and that thing that was coming after me from my past. That thing that had been coming after me and getting closer all the time. But what

Intriguing thread. I'm writing to please myself, or, more accurately, I should say that I began writing Crosscurrents as an exercise in self-therapy. But I first posted it hoping that there would be readers out there who could relate to the theme. I've been more than gratified over the years that this has been amply the case. It's a problem for me that there are so many stories here! One of my closest online friends is also a Hosted Author, and in the early days of his writing, he sent me drafts asking for some feedback. I gave it, usually at length and ad nauseam. Be careful what you ask for. But he's become so damn prolific--he seems to ship an entire new novel every nine days--that I've lost the ability to stay current. And that's with a guy who's one of my closest online friends. Not to worry; he gets more than his share of acclaim, don'tcha, Mark? But there are so many stories here I want to get to, and just haven't been able to. There are a lot of books in print I want to read, too, and never seem to have time to get to. And that's even considering that I usually have at least three reads of some sort going at the same time. What I'm trying to say is that I sympathize with readers who are overwhelmed at the thought of leaving feedback to all the authors they read, and I sympathize with authors who want feedback and don't get it. And I guess what I'd like to say additionally is that readers don't have have to respond to every single thing they read...but maybe as a nod toward compensating people who provide them with free entertainment, it would be good if readers would commit themselves to a small number of reviews/responses per month and just plug away at giving those reponses. Don't make it an all-or-nothing thing. And authors could do all the things mentioned in the previous posts to get people to see their stuff. And someday I'll get back to your Cramptonworld saga, Mark. I promise. But would you please quit writing for a while?

I've said my piece on this already. Here. And here.

Of the new batch of freshman soccer players, Ryan Cannon was the fastest and the cockiest. And the hottest. And the one who ended up making me forget that I'd decided to stop hitting on straight guys.It wasn't because he was hot, though. He was; but the cockiness was a little irritating. I'd taken to calling him "Cap Gun" instead of "Cannon," and the name stuck, much to Ryan's irritation.Personally, I thought the bravado he brought was enticing. But there was something else; something under the

Since you led off with Mozart--and man, what's not to love in his catalog?--I thought I'd link to one of his that grabs me real hard. It's the Lacrimosa from the Requiem, K. 626. Yeah, I know, there's probably some Sussmayr in there since Mozart died before the Requiem was finished, but I'd like to believe that, at least for this piece, of which Mozart had written out only the first dozen or so bars, Sussmayr reconstructed it from Mozart's own discussions with him.

Well, I love music in just about every category imagineable. I have a particular warm spot in my heart for grunge and some of the emo guys. The Ataris are my favorite band ever, and I love Foo Fighters. Just about anything by Chris Cornell (showing my age). But of course, I do love classical. Btw, "classical" is an odd sort of misnomer, in my opinion. Strictly speaking, it should refer to just a slice of music, say, from Mozart's time, right? But not Bach. Not Brahms. Not Debussy. But we call it all "classical." Anyway, it's hard to name favorites. That's like asking "what food do you like best?" On any given day I'll answer differently. This morning, though, I'd choose the Bach Brandenburg Concerti. Specifically, #3.

I'm in agreement with much of what you said; I think college should be all about a liberal arts education and not primarily about getting a job. Could be that it's inevitable, though. I have to take issue with you on your characterization of math. As a college math teacher, who also has a minor in philosophy and has studied more than his share of music and literature and history, I have to tell you there's ever so much more to math and science than "linear thinking." A brief walk through the world of theoretical math would blow the doors off your conception of math and science. Beyond that, the mathematical and scientific accomplishments in Western Civilization arose not in opposition to the liberal arts, but in dialog with them, and often inspired by them. The type of inquiry characteristic of the liberal arts is also what has fueled achievements in math and science. Commitment to the liberal arts makes for better mathematical thinkers and better scientific thinkers, just as math-and-science guys can keep the folks in the liberal arts/humanities/etc. honest.

Thank you. If you ever wonder why I love you, just return to this post. The Great Conversation has brought us to where we are. College is supposed to be about immersing oneself in that. With mind...and, as you observed, with body. But it does seem that things have gotten to the point where people--from their little individual spots in the Vast Stream--question the whole enterprise now. I'm sure the ridiculous expense has something to do with it. And you do have to wonder about the wisdom of sending everybody off to college as a matter of course. Maybe that's the problem with college right now, and maybe that's why the question comes up. It seems manifest that it's not for everyone.

It was late afternoon, and the weather had been perfect for a long, hard run. I'd made about ten miles, and I was ready to shut it down. Walking it off, I passed by the baseball field, where I saw several guys from the team playing catch and shagging balls. I stopped, stripped off my shirt, sat down in the stands, and watched. They could have been Abercrombie & Fitch models, or maybe it was just my mood and all the elements of the moment. The leftovers of my runner's high. The perfect te

I'd say something shockingly rude and insensitive to methodwriter in reply, and he'd get it and laugh, but I'd probably get kicked off the board, hosted author or no, and I have no doubt I'd enrage everybody else participating in this discussion.

My Kindle. And the Kindle app for my Droid phone. And Kindle will read a variety of formats. You're not restricted to only what you buy from Amazon. Although the features always change, I originally went with Kindle because it would deal with HTML documents. Last summer I put Mark Arbour's Academic Predator series on my Kindle!

My listening tastes are all over the map. Ask me on any given day and I'll tell you something else. For more or less "mainstream" acts in a couple of different genres, I like these guys: (country-pop) (I'm actually gonna write and post a story inspired by this song and a young man I met this past summer) (rock) A Rocket to the Moon (emo-tinged rock)

Amazing personal stories, everybody. Thanks for sharing them. I've never considered suicide. I've had a pretty exceptional life, happiness-wise. I tend to run melancholic, though, and I tend to cover that over with a kind of over-the-top gregarious, uptempo personality...but I do walk around chronically aware of how the world is awash in heartbreak. It's an odd concatenation of characteristics, I guess: the upbeat melancholic, but that's just kind of how it is with me.. I guess that when a person considers suicide it must be that the pain-to-gratification ratio is so weighted on the "pain" side that not-existing anymore seems preferable. I guess I haven't been there. Even when stuff gets bad, I want to see what's going to happen next. I had a female friend from high school who committed suicide when I was off at college. And I have a young friend now whose best friend committed suicide. It must be awful to be in so much pain that you decide you can't go on. It's also bad for the people who love the people who commit suicide.

Little Buddha's Someday Out of the Blue. Still have a warm spot for that story in my heart.

Running: Consider it. I did. Considered it and chose it, truth be known. If a guy runs hard enough--fast enough--he can get so caught up in the mechanics and the rush that he forgets himself. Running: The wind in your hair, the rise and fall of your chest, the burn in your lungs and your legs...it clears away the clutter, the complications. You throw yourself fully into it, and no explanation or justification or additional consideration is needed. All the truth you

I spent a lot of time on studying and a lot of time on soccer that first semester in college, but sex occupied as much of my attention as those other things. More, maybe. I scouted out and got with all the available ladies I could in September and October. Then, on the heels of outing myself to Trey, I decided to make a stand for the other side of my sexuality. After that, having made my point in November--both to myself and to others--about the sexual availability and malleability of some str