Anecdotal Evidence

No writer’s death during my lifetime has so stunned me, left me unwilling to accept the news, as Vladimir Nabokov’s. On a muggy night in You...

The Battle of Malvern Hill was fought near Richmond, Va., the capital of the Confederacy, on July 1, 1862. Not as well remembered as Antieta...

My father by trade was an ironworker and on the side he ran a welding business. The garage was his workshop. There he kept the usual oxy-ace...

I used to think that everyone knew it -- “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.” -- the same way everyone knew “And what is so rare as ...

“With all his gifts, he had of imagination not one spark. Fancy and wit he had in his earlier work; and grace he never lost; but for the res...

Yet again, an English word surprises me with its multiple meanings. A reader complimented the “scruples” I apply to writing. I thought I kne...

R.L. Barth has sent me a copy of his first book, Forced-Marching to the Styx: Vietnam War Poems , a chapbook of twenty-one poems published b...