From my vantage point here in Barcelona—where ancient cathedrals stand as monuments to humanity’s complex relationship with the divine rather than political weapons—I’ve been watching America’s latest theological circus with a mixture of fascination and horror. Americans have become increasingly bewitched by what I can only describe as a borrowed god who brings particularly bad…

I’m done. Not the dramatic, door-slamming kind of done. The quiet, bone-deep exhaustion that comes when the last thread of hope finally snaps. When 82% of white evangelical Christians pulled the lever for a convicted rapist and felon—again—any whisper of faith I’d been harboring finally died. Here’s what gets me: I spent thirty years in…

In the labyrinthine streets of Barcelona, where Gothic spires rise above modernist masterpieces and ancient Roman walls embrace Mediterranean shores, I found the perfect muse for my transformative novella, The Purging Room. The idea was born in the Appalachian wilderness, but it needed Barcelona’s unique blend of architectural time travel, artistic rebellion, and sensual atmosphere…

My tender and urgent longings as a sensual adolescent soon clashed with the harsh reality of a prudish religious upbringing. And for over forty years, I suppressed my gnawing hungers, my incessant desires, and my carnal fantasies.  But a single touch of a friend sent courses of electricity through my being and cast a hot…

Ah, the secrets we keep, the longings and desires we hide. We are afraid to be honest with others (and sometimes, rightly so); tragically, we are scared to be honest with ourselves. If you dare, play a game with me.   Look, in your mind, at this photograph. Is it of a nude (or would…

Shock. Horror. Disbelief. Disappointment. Hollow vindication. These are a few of the violent emotions that swept over me this morning when the Associated Press confirmed that a psychopathic criminal filled with hatred has been re-elected President of the United States.  Surreal. I would never have dreamed this would happen after the traitorous attempted coup and…

Last night, Gina and I saw Loreena McKennitt for the first time in concert. I have loved her music for over thirty years, particularly her vocal clarity and quality. Afterward, I told Gina the backstory of the song The Mummer’s Dance, which helped her understand why I was so moved last night as the stunningly…

(A Four-Minute Read) I retired at the age of forty-eight. Which caused a few years of tumultuous adjustment—tears shed over this self-imposed exile from the stage; once applauded by audiences, admired by peers, and stopped by strangers in the street; how could I not feel some bereavement over the waning of my celebrity, the weekly…

**I saw this survey in The Atlantic and loved it. I adapted it slightly. The upcoming event I’m most looking forward to: Visiting the Costa Brava of Spain. The sun-kissed land, a rugged coastline lined with pine-edged coves, golden untouched beaches, and crystal clear water. Its beauty extends inland with important Greco-Roman ruins, and quiet Medieval villages,…

During my elementary school years in the early 1970s, I read everything. Books about Roman gods and teen detectives (male and female) and gruesomely martyred saints, but also ancient encyclopedias bought at Goodwill, used Reader’s Digests and my grandmother’s Penny’s catalog. In the time-honored tradition of nerds everywhere, I read the backs of cereal boxes…