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Friday, April 11, 2014

Radiation Days will be published May 6th. Here's the link to the cool blue cover. Thanks for sticking with me, Lynn

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

A Book!

A few months ago, I gathered all the blog posts together into a single manuscript and submitted it to the nice folks who published the Short Course in Beer. I just found out that they want to publish Radiation Days as a book in 2014. (If I were the type of person who indulged in multiple exclamation points, I'd put them here.)

In the meantime, i'm thinking about how to use this publication to do the most good for the most people. My message isn't one of those goopy 'keep hope alive' things and it's certainly not 'attitude is everything. It's more like 'live your life right now, live, live, live.' Cancer sucks, but if it reminds you to live your life intensely and joyfully, then it ain't a complete loss.
I'm thinking that there's a monologue in there-for as long as my voice still works-for cancer support groups, maybe a fund-raising thing for local cancer-fighting groups. If you have any ideas, any at all, i'm a-listening.

thanks, lynn

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Radiation Redux

It just occurred to me that radiation isn't just what they aim at us cancer patients. It also means the process by which energy is emitted, the dance we do that spreads out into the world, the ripples on the surface from our oars in the bay.
Now it turns out that even though my cancer is gone for now, my every desire is to emit some energy, to tap my toe on the ground and have the vibrations spread.
So here's a new season on radiation days. It's not about living with cancer, it's about living afterwards. Or maybe it's just about living. I hope it's as interesting to read as the first season.

Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Round Two?

Tomorrow is the second anniversary of my cancer diagnosis. A few days ago I noticed a lump under  my jaw and shooting pains in my ears. Two days ago, I spat up blood. I have a scan set for friday, and we'll see what's going on.
In the meantime, tonight I'm part of a poetry reading at the Philadelphia Fringe Festival. The conceit is that all us poets are part of the Poetry Brothel and you can buy a private reading of a poem from the poetry whore of your choice. I happen to think it's a lovely metaphor for writing for publication and a great way to think about the fragility of a man's voice.
Stay tuned.

Tuesday, July 24, 2012


here's a thought on the matter:

Sunday, June 17, 2012


The bandage that I'm pointing to is covering the mark of a vaccination. I was vaccinated with a vaccine that might prevent cancers like mine. The white thing behind me is a barn door and yes, it's locked.

Thursday, June 14, 2012

Punctuation Marks

Last week they removed the chemo-therapy port from my chest. The port, you may remember, was a little valve that was hooked up to a vein and then implanted for easy access under my skin. It's been there, like a little ziggurat beneath my skin for almost two years. Taking it out was an acknowledgement on the doctors' part that this episode in my life has stopped. I won't say it's finished or ended (you generally don't get to write your own end) but at least this is a punctuation mark, the end of a sentence, a paragraph, a chapter.

To keep me from missing this blog too much, there are a few distractions. The second edition of The Short Course in Beer is now available on Amazon. It turns out that instead of losing speech and taste, I'm shooting my mouth off about beer at every opportunity now.

There are also three books of poetry that are somewhere in the process of getting printed. You've seen some of the poetry here and one of them was published this week. It's called BOOM!. I've also started looking for an agent to represent the book that's growing out of this blog. I guess it will be called Radiation Days-stay tuned.

I can't tell you how much your reading this has meant to me. There were days when the only conscious thing I did was write a piece of this blog and knowing that you were there gave me a sense of meaning.
I feel good, I feel strong and I'm ridiculously happy to be alive. If you'll forgive my saying so, at the end of radiation days, there's a kind of glow.

Thank you.