Dear Jud Laghi: The Sun's Surrender is the story of Jake Barton, an affluent young man who finds his life suddenly turned upside down after his father dies on September 11. Not knowing how to understand nor cope with the tragedy, Jake quickly spirals and reaches for alcohol, drugs, and anything else that can take his mind away. It's not until a year and a half later when his longtime girlfriend decides she has had enough that he really starts to think about his life or what he should do. Fina...

Dear Jud Laghi: The Sun's Surrender is the story of Jake Barton, an affluent young man who finds his life suddenly turned upside down after his father dies on September 11. Not knowing how to understand nor cope with the tragedy, Jake quickly spirals and reaches for alcohol, drugs, and anything else that can take his mind away. It's not until a year and a half later when his longtime girlfriend decides she's had enough that he really starts to think about his life or what he should do. Finall...

      Screams race through the air after her as Elizabeth Marie Baker runs as hard as she can through the night streets. She hasn't looked behind her in at least half a mile and has no intentions of doing so now. She's knows they're there. She knows they're closer than she'd like. She doesn't need to see it with her own eyes. So, she runs as she has each and every time she's had to scout.       This time was different. The monsters were more p...

She stands there (in front of me). Her arms crossed. Her black hair almost fades into the night sky. "I'm sorry," she says and I stare into her dark amber eyes. "We just don't have the same faith." She's Irish and of Rom decent. Which makes her family Irish-Catholic Gypsies. Yeah. They're all like this. At least, that's my assumption. You either follow their way of life or you're gone. There is no compromise. I stand there and I think about what she's just said. What it means. She's there in ...

one. I step off the plane and watch as water trinkles across the glass windows blocking me from exiting the immigration line. This was the first plane I've been on since my father's death. I swore I'd never fly after 9/11, but here I am: Paris, 2003. Mike and Robert won't be able to join me for another month. That's four weeks where I can come to acclimate-assimilate-to their different culture. Four weeks. Four weeks to escape. "Business or pleasure?" The woman's question spins my head. "Wha...

“I’m sorry,” she says and I stare into her black eyes. “We just don’t have the same faith.” She’s of Rom decent. They’re all like this. At least, that’s my assumption. You either adhere to their way of life or you’re gone. There is no compromise. I stand there and I think about what she’s just said… what it means. She’s there in tears, all shaken up. Probably hoping I’ll say something magical--something to make it all okay. But I don’t. I don’t even say the typical guy things: the “please do...