We all loathe writing about ourselves. Better someone else fall on that knife, right? You know, I say that then I suddenly remember the folks who’ll wax on about themselves all day—as a profession or sheer indulgence. I can assure you that’s not me, although I’ve carried on for three sentences now in avoiding the task at hand. On with it …
T. Nelson Taylor is the author of … wait; I’m in third-person now? Ugh, never mind. Maybe it’s this aqua-colored background that’s got me in a mood. Oops! You folks don’t see it; the stones of Devil’s Tower are in the background. If you look real hard, you might find Larry Butler’s jacket.
Anyway, I wrote my first book, DUST, in 2009. Crazy idea. Had this story ricocheting off my head, and time on my hands during an economic meltdown. I’ve been a casual follower of neuroscience for decades, including the often-incomplete or insincere jabs at explaining dreams (part of oneirology), déjà vu, long-term/short-term memory and other routine anomalies ala cryptomnesia in scientific contexts. That often led down the path to the paranormal or summarily dismissed as a psychological illness. Science is slowly catching up, comedic as it sounds. That’s where DUST came to being—a happy accident with unforeseen consequences.
Now to write the sequel.
Uh, nope! BOLITA came at the insistence of my father, a retired criminology professor and former sergeant detective heading Tampa’s Criminal Intelligence Unit. A friend and detective colleague was murdered in cold blood by the mob at the front door of his home in 1975. Many believe it came with the blessings (and possible direction) of the mob’s local underboss, the police chief, and their misguided lackeys. I say misguided because Tampa’s don claimed full ignorance, condemning the act. The fallout was severe—many paid with their lives—but the question of full justice remains to this day. Those in knowledge of the complete story have long since met their maker. Maybe BOLITA will inspire someone to come forward. Maybe it all needs to go away. Problem is, nobody got over it. How can they?
Now comes TO DUST. After what—12 years? All I can say is “life” …
I hope it’s worth your patience. I enjoyed writing it. No spoilers!
Yours,
/T
Oh … me … almost made it out of here without more ellipses.
Music and legal industries—engineering, performance, editing and graphic arts. My inspiration to write surfaced during an academic return to the University of South Florida, and a little nurturing from certain literary professors.
You have a story to tell, you sit down, you start to type, words appear on the screen. Many you like, some you don’t, but it doesn’t discourage you. More percussive tapping—a paragraph, then finally a page. You examine it and say to yourself, “Maybe that’s a start.”