I dreamed the first chapters of a thousand not-so-great American novels, between the blue sky and the green grass of left field, waiting those interminable little-league innings. And, while I was never carried off the field on my teammate's shoulders, and never trotted the bases for a homerun, I came away with something infinitely more valuable. The dreams and visions I put to paper now may not be the same as the Technicolor odysseys that filled my younger eyes, but the seed from which these words come once fell to ground, ...
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I dreamed the first chapters of a thousand not-so-great American novels, between the blue sky and the green grass of left field, waiting those interminable little-league innings. And, while I was never carried off the field on my teammate's shoulders, and never trotted the bases for a homerun, I came away with something infinitely more valuable. The dreams and visions I put to paper now may not be the same as the Technicolor odysseys that filled my younger eyes, but the seed from which these words come once fell to ground, rooted and grew tall in left field. From psychotic chefs to world killing comets, from an asexual future society, to man-eating grizzlies, FOUR FROM LEFT FIELD is a collection of my more bizarre flights of fancy, none of which has anything to do with baseball.
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