When I was a volunteer firemen, one of the guys on the department worked in a gas station. In those days of full service only, the attendant cleaned your windshield, and checked your oil and tires. There wasn't much in a small town that was sacred, so one time he asked, "You must make a lot of money as a writer. How much?"

"I made $17,000 last year."

For a moment he was dumbfounded. "That's what I make." To Read More...

When this site debuted on the world wide web in 2000, the first piece I posted was a short story written fourteen years earlier, Return of the Hun, about a drunk out-of-work screenwriter who was a post-modern resurrection of F. Scott Fitzgerald's Pat Hobby character, another drunk, out-of-work screenwriter but in a classier time. I'm about to re-post my sleazy homage as a Christmas present to readers, but first l want to explore a fascinating subject--me--the writer behind the character. There are two of us, The Real Me and Toxic Jeff. We're a team. But there could be more. So let's begin with some misconceptions. To Read More...