The memory of dirt

“Matter can neither be created nor destroyed. It can only be rearranged.” —Law of Conservation of Mass For a long time, I collected dirt. OK, maybe not the coolest collection, […]

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The Blessing Jar

“Don’t look back. Something might be gaining on you.” —SATCHEL PAIGE I lived a hundred lives last year. The curious wanderer, the angry plumber, the heartbroken son who refused to […]

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The Ladder Guy

My father six months ago, so this blog has a special sentimental value to me this year. I hope you think about your dad when you read this. A long […]

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A father, a son, and a river at the edge of the land

My father-son memoir The Sourtoe Cocktail Club, about our Yukon odyssey to the literal edge of the Earth to find a cocktail containing a mummified human toe, was published in 2011. It is a deep—and often funny—contemplation about whether I was still relevant to my teenage son after a divorce. On Father’s Day, eleven years later, it seems appropriate to contemplate it again.

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Something novel

Unable to go out into the world during Covid, I turned inward. How could I use what I’ve learned in decades of true storytelling and journalism? How can I still write a provocative book without leaving the safety of my home and imagination? The answers changed the arc of my writing.

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