My next novel—finally named

My next novel has been a long time coming. Having undergone many rewrites, it has been ready for a while, but has been difficult to name. I've finally settled on a title and it will be published early next year.

The three titles in contention have been "The Body in the Freezer" which sounds like a murder mystery. It's not, although there is a body in the freezer that plagues the dreams of our young hero. "Directions Not Included" suggests humor, which it's not, though I think it will elicit a few chuckles. Instead, I've chosen to name it "Call Me Captain" hinting at a wistful yearning for recognition and giving it a poignancy that I hope will affect readers in a positive way.

It's about Samuel Ellingsford Capulin III, age 13, the only son of a middle class family. He fears and disdains his authoritarian and often absent father, a pilot for a commercial airline. Captain, as he wants to be called, sees his mother as weak and doting, with no real life of her own. To hide his anger and feelings of rejection, he cops an attitude of indifference, arrogance, and sarcasm—not just at home, but at school with any peers or teachers who don't earn his respect. The story begins in the office of Mrs. Mahoney, the  junior high school principal, where Captain is frequently sent for his disrespect and disruption of a class. 

When he goes a bit too far, Captain is suspended from school and ordered to serve six weeks of community service in a homeless shelter. The patrons to his breakfast line become real people with stories of their own, rather than the generalized mass of low-life his father derides and shuns. One of the patrons is a girl named Danni who brings her 3-year-old sister to the shelter. She rebuffs Captain's attempts to start a conversation, something he isn't used to. Prettier, more popular girls at school have always vied for his attention. Danni's snubs challenge him, and he becomes intrigued by her secrecy and independence.

When she finally shares one of her deepest secrets with him, he wonders what he has gotten himself into—and why.

Confused by the Massacre in Connecticut

How to be?

What to feel?

So hard to understand

When feelings roil and churn

Collide

Crash into each other

And then lay dead

A weight in the pit of my stomach.

The sadness and grief and confusion

Refuse to be reconciled.

With present joy and blessings

I can’t feel one

Without it being swept away

By the other.

Feelings of joy

And depths of gratitude

Flood my soul

When I watch

My grandsons play

Squealing with delight

Over little discoveries.

Feelings of sadness

Fear and guilt

Sweep away the joy

As I remember

Twenty little children

Who can no longer play

And parents and grandparents

Who will never

Watch their little ones

Make new discoveries

Or hear their shouts of joy

And laughter ever again.