This is the story behind the story of the creation of Dead Load. It’s not about the book. It’s about the idea that’s woven through the book. Not the action part. Not the thriller part. But the part that’s closest to my heart.
I want Nick Stello, the protagonist of Dead Load, to be relatable. Yes, he has the familiar action-thriller backstory of a mysterious past catching up with him. But I wanted Nick to be an ordinary guy in the present. At least before the action begins.
To achieve this, I needed to pick an occupation that would absorb him. He needed to (and wanted to) forget the past. This required a certain kind of work he could credibly immerse himself in without appearing to be a workaholic.
I could have made him a fiction writer, but how many stories are about writers? (Spoiler alert: Too many. And that trope fatigues me to no end.)
No, I needed to pick a skilled trade. Craftsmen are like artists. We appreciate that because it means they take their work seriously. Sometimes too seriously, to the point where the Continue Reading “What The Trowel Binds”
Destiny Is Calling Me
Bills coach Joe Brady watches as Josh Allen is about to score the first touchdown at the new Highmark Stadium against the Detroit Lions in the stadium’s first game on Thursday night, September 17, 2026. Photo by Chris Carosa
For as long as I can remember, my brother and I wanted to go to a Buffalo Bills game. We couldn’t go. It was to
o expensive.
My parents went once during the Bills’ AFL Championship season. We couldn’t go. It was just for adults. We stayed home with the babysitter, my great great aunt (that’s not a typo, she was my grandmother’s aunt).
Every week, we’d listen to the game on the radio. Those were the days of “blackouts.” Back then, local television often couldn’t show the games. So the radio was the only choice. My father, my brother, and I. No matter where we were.
We’d listen in the car on a radio that had only the AM band. We’d listen in the spare room on a radio embedded in the Show and Tell. My mother would serve the three of us little sandwiches to make the event a special family event. We’d listen outside on a portable radio while my father laid bricks for a raised flower bed at my great aunt’s house (that would be my mother’s aunt).
I remember that last one. The Bills beat the Jets. It was 1968. That was their only win that season. But they beat the eventual Super Bowl champs.
What I don’t remember is when we first asked our father if we could go to a game.
“Someday,” he promised. “When you boys are older.”
My brother and I wondered when we’d be older.
Then, one day in early 1973, my father finally sprang the question on us. “Boys, do you want Continue Reading “Destiny Is Calling Me”