“My father waved, and although my mother returned the gesture, I was certain it was meant for me. He pressed stomach-down on the board, head turned and awaiting the wall of water curling behind him. He paddled quickly, catching the wave at its peak, and came to his feet. So smooth, effortless, as if he were simply standing from the comfort of his desk chair. He sliced through the sea with an ease reserved for bottlenose dolphins and predatory sharks, both of which visited Montauk shores on occasion. His wet suit glinted in the sunbeams and made him look like a wizard, or something else touched by magic. I knew, even at that moment, I’d never see my father again quite so perfectly.”

from Memorial Day 
“My family would be leaving soon; we always ended our Memorial Day vacation before lunch on Monday: on our way out of town, my father would drive to Duryea’s, a small place on Fort Pond Bay next to the railroad station, where lobster rolls were procured and savored on the journey home. I couldn’t imagine the car ride, what we would say to one another, if anything. I held out hope that Liam, in his infinite wisdom and narcissism, would occupy us with uncomfortably carnal stories. Maybe, though, we had already said enough to one another. Maybe we could just move on. Maybe, hopefully, there would be no need for apologies anymore.” Read the opening excerpt of the novella, Memorial Day, over at Blue Fifth Review High-res

“My family would be leaving soon; we always ended our Memorial Day vacation before lunch on Monday: on our way out of town, my father would drive to Duryea’s, a small place on Fort Pond Bay next to the railroad station, where lobster rolls were procured and savored on the journey home. I couldn’t imagine the car ride, what we would say to one another, if anything. I held out hope that Liam, in his infinite wisdom and narcissism, would occupy us with uncomfortably carnal stories. Maybe, though, we had already said enough to one another. Maybe we could just move on. Maybe, hopefully, there would be no need for apologies anymore.”

Read the opening excerpt of the novella, Memorial Day, over at Blue Fifth Review

Memorial Day: An Excerpt and Interview

I worked on my novella, Memorial Day, for almost a year. I’m so grateful to those close to me who read the piece as I struggled to make each word count, including all the editors who were kind enough to give me feedback and help my revisions.

The novella, though standalone, also serves as the Prologue of my novel-in-progress (tentatively entitled Let’s Remember Only That), which only makes the feedback I’ve received all the more instructive.

To read the opening excerpt from Memorial Day, stop by Blue Fifth Review.

In addition, Susan Tepper was kind enough to interview me for the Monday Chat at Fictionaut, where we discussed both Memorial Day and the novel-in-progress. 

Thanks, as always, for your readership and support.

“When I crossed Washington Street, the wind from New Jersey refreshed me. I saw Maddie, reading along the water. It was strange to see her without Josh; I’d always believed they were one inextricable unit, that nothing short of an apocalypse could separate them; even then, though, a zombie apocalypse wouldn’t work, because they’d certainly continue on in their mutually-undead states, hunting and consuming brains as if it were nothing short of normal.”

from the novella, “Somehow There Was More Here,” published by Found Press
“Though this novella and family are works of fiction, I feel as if I’ve been trying to write about Montauk for most of my adult life. I spent parts of a great many summers in the small resort town at the eastern tip of Long Island. There’s something about the hominess of it all, the swell of salty sea air colliding with fresh-made fudge. Running down the sidewalks with abandon, paddle-boating on Fort Pond, burying my toes in the hot, hot sand of Ditch Plains. So much of my childhood, my adolescence, seems scattered along those Atlantic shores.” from the Author Commentary in Blue Fifth Review, regarding my novella, Memorial Day High-res

“Though this novella and family are works of fiction, I feel as if I’ve been trying to write about Montauk for most of my adult life. I spent parts of a great many summers in the small resort town at the eastern tip of Long Island. There’s something about the hominess of it all, the swell of salty sea air colliding with fresh-made fudge. Running down the sidewalks with abandon, paddle-boating on Fort Pond, burying my toes in the hot, hot sand of Ditch Plains. So much of my childhood, my adolescence, seems scattered along those Atlantic shores.”

from the Author Commentary in Blue Fifth Review, regarding my novella, Memorial Day

“I imagined the two of them, these sisters, as girls…playing on the same beaches, chasing the young surfer boys along Ditch Plains, getting lost in the tall, tall grass around the Montauk Point Lighthouse. I liked to think about them this way, because now, as I watched them stare stoically up at the kite, each sipping their coffees, I saw something very, very different.”

from Memorial Day, excerpted at Blue Fifth Review

In having a conversation this week regarding my novel-in-progress, I was asked for the “theme song,” something to represent the experience of reading the book, following the characters. 

I didn’t even have to think about it. This is it, without a doubt. Enjoy.

Monday Chat, over at Fictionaut, with Susan Tepper

Over at Fictionaut’s Monday Chat, Susan Tepper was lovely enough to ask me some questions about my writing, my novella Memorial Day, and my novel-in-progress. 

Thanks so much, for reading and your support.

Susan Tepper: What made you choose Montauk on Long Island as the beach setting for your story “from Memorial Day”? You could have picked from many places, why Montauk?

Danny Goodman: The Hughes family, who live on Long Island, feel as much a part of Montauk as the reverse. They vacation there, every year, and have done so for well over a decade. I couldn’t imagine them anywhere else on Memorial Day weekend.

Though this novella and the Hughes family are works of fiction, I feel as if I’ve been trying to write about Montauk for most of my adult life. I spent many summers over the years in the small resort town. So much of my childhood, my adolescence, seems scattered along those Atlantic shores. They call Montauk “The End,” for its position at the eastern tip of Long Island; if nothing else, the Hughes family has taken on that sobriquet, too.

The JMWW VI anthology (Best of 2011) is out, and it includes my short story, “Forest Hills.” I’m pretty damn excited about it—thanks to the editors, and readers, for giving my story such a gorgeous home. High-res

The JMWW VI anthology (Best of 2011) is out, and it includes my short story, “Forest Hills.” I’m pretty damn excited about it—thanks to the editors, and readers, for giving my story such a gorgeous home.

Icebergs: from ‘Desperate Characters’ by Paula Fox

“…He’s always going out there to see her. He says she’s a realist. I think he means it as a complaint. Maybe it’s the way he says it, with that confiding grin of his.”

“Maybe he loves her.”

“Love? I don’t know about that. In fact, that’s where his heartlessness really shows up. He wants to win. No matter what he says, I think she threw him out. Oh, he’s very dependent on her…she’s one of those organizing women, I’d guess, sounded tough to me on the telephone, very tough. There’s plenty going on between them all right. He sits up there in his shabby old office and she takes care of the world.”

Paula Fox, Desperate Characters