The Gladiator is Back on the Road

Saturday, I decided to start the Jeep and get it ready to take to work for a few days. It had been sitting for months. The battery was dead and wouldn't take a charge. I took it to Murray's Auto Parts to see if the battery or the truck was the problem. It was the battery.

The young sales clerk was ready to sell me a new $259 battery when he mentioned a four-year warranty.

"Wait a minute, that battery is only three years old." I'd gotten it from Auto Zone.

I decided to reclaim my battery and drive the extra mile to Auto Zone. They exchanged it for free. 

Today, Max and I got gas in the truck and went to Walmart to find replacement batteries for my key fobs. Those were not free, but cheap enough.

I tired convincing Max that strapping himself with a $5600 ring payment was not a good idea.

"That's about what mom's ring cost," he said.

I refrained from making a comment on that except to say, "Not the first one. Her first one was less than a thousand."

He clearly hadn't considered wedding plans or other costs coming up in the next year. "Your going to have a lot going on in the next year. Moving out of that condo, a wedding. Don't start off in debt.

I'd rather give you $10,000 for a down payment on a house than to help you finance that ring."

After he left, I decided to switch the hinges on my new dryer so it opened to the left. The door is bigger than the old one, and it was getting in the way when I loaded clothes from the washer.

I also submitted a couple more novel queries this weekend and a few essay submissions.

Overall I'd say it has been productive.

Welter Spring 2026

 I am proud to announce that my piece, Glimpse, is part of the Welter spring 2026 issue.

CURRENT ISSUE | Spring 2026

 

Inside the 61st issue of Welter

New writing from Mira Yousif Almazrouei, Lucie Bhisitkul, Arno Bohlmeijer, Nathaniel Brame, Allison Burris, Sam Campbell, Scott Carroll, J. S. Coursey, Thomas Dettling, Joy DiMenna, Clayton Eccard, Mel Edden, Rachel Eisler, Christa Fairbrother, Melissa Foley-King, Ewen Glass, Benjamin Goluboff, Jennifer Harvey, Ghazal Azad Jahan, Thomas Lowery, Karen McGee, Kate Miano, Lauren Mirzakhalili, Elizabeth Murphy, Christine Naprava, Franz Jørgen Neumann, Bill Neumire, Prasida Clare Newman, David Pizzuro, Kimberly Ann Priest, nat raum, Sara Ries Dziekonski, Thaddeus Rutkowski, Grace Schwenk, Isabella Simões, John Sweeney, Kendra Whitfield, Joy Yin, Joshua Zeitler, and Jianqing Zheng. New artwork from Nuala McEvoy (cover), Joy DiMenna, Carlos Duplá, Richard Hanus, JC Henderson, Beth Horton, Anna Kirby, Susan Laugen, Serge Lecompte, Vishaal Pathak, Jim Ross, and RUNA.

For more information about the 61st print issue and our other print journals, visit our Print section.

Glimpse

 I woke to some unexpected good news today.  "Glimpse," has been accepted for publication in the spring 2026 print version of Welter. 

Yes, another of my pieces has been accepted. This really feels great, and it adds to my legitimacy in my bio for query letters. It boosts my confidence that there might just be an agent out there willing to take a chance on the memoir.

It also gives me the kick in the butt I needed to submit a few more pieces. I have been dragging my feet lately.

Query

 I have started actively querying agents, which is a job in itself.  First, you have to find one who wants to read more. Second, they need to want to represent the project. It is a long journey, but one I am willing to pursue at this point. 

I signed up for a small writers workshop led by an instructor from UCLA. Eight people max. I am hoping that produces some good feedback. At this point, I like editing as much as I do writing. I learn a lot from both.

Max is dealing with BPD (borderline personality disorder). In his case, it is probably true. He suggests I, too, have BPD. On that, I disagree. While I have some of the signs, none of them prohibit me from functioning 

I think therapy is a good thing, although I am resistant to placing all your trust in it or blaming all your issues on something like BPD. At some point, you have to also take responsibility. His generation leans into this therapy culture. 

March Without the Madness

 I'm still busy, but it is in a good way. I'm on my last round of edits for my memoir. It is about time to seek direction from someone more talented and knowledgeable. I haven't decided on whom. This memoir is not a money-making project, but it never has been for me.

I often say to myself, I'd rather create a well-crafted book than a poorly written bestseller. I don't care if people hate the narrator as long as they like the way it is written. That is my focus, and I have learned a lot since my first attempt. 

I continue to check how far I have drifted from the original raw blog post. I haven't rewritten history. Which is important to me. It is easy for someone writing a memoir twenty years after the event to unwittingly bend the story. I haven't. The main characters didn't question my writing back then. They can't question them now, though I don't think anyone cares anymore.

Max is painting War Hammer figure on a production level. He is having some issues with keeping his studio dust-free and cat-free. He even asked if he could use my basement as his studio at one point, but that hasn't happened yet. I wouldn't mind.

I haven't seen Max's girlfriend since they moved back to this side of town. I have two theories for that. Either she doesn't like me, or she is pregnant, and no one wants to say. Hopefully, neither is true. But I wouldn't be surprised by either.

This week's plan is to finish my edits, condo association meeting, start my taxes, and continue work on editing Ariel's book.

Currently we meet ever two weeks on Zoom. We used to meet in person, but she move about an hour north of me and I don't feel like making the trip in the winter. I've become very passionate about writing and craft. It's great to have someone to share it with.

Gaining Traction

Beyond Words picked up my essay, Shimmer for their March 2026, literary magazine. I am gaining traction just when I needed it. I have been struggling with the rewrites to the memoir.

Lately, I’ve been deep in the weeds with rewrites on the memoir, trying to apply all the feedback I’ve received. Every note has been positive, which makes it both better and harder. It’s not about whether I can write — it’s about shaping the story in the best way.

My friend Ariel, the wife of a coworker and a fellow memoirist, has been a big help. Still, I’m wrestling with the same questions every writer faces: What stays? What goes? What’s missing? And where does it all belong?

Gia seems to have left Detroit. She hasn’t shown up anywhere lately. My guess? She went back to Rhode Island to see her family before heading down to Tampa for the winter.

A couple of weeks ago, Max asked me to help him change his oil. Said his car was blowing a cloud of white smoke every time he started it. I told him an oil change wasn’t going to fix that. White smoke means a head gasket problem. He decided to trade it in for a new Ford Maverick instead.k.

Max's mom helped him get the new truck. Honestly, I would not have. It is not teaching him any responsibility; it probably strapped him with a five or six-year car payment. 

For those wondering, I will be making an appearance as Willy Wonka for Tinkerbell's Halloween display. My custom is a cross between Gene Wilder and Johnny Depp.

Memoirs

Friday, I went out to eat with a coworker, Wennie, and her wife, Ariel. It was Wennie’s idea for us to meet—Ariel is working on a memoir, too. They recently moved to Michigan after many years in California. Ariel is my age; Wennie is about a decade younger, one of those people who could easily pass for much younger.

Ariel’s health seemed fragile. She walked with difficulty, horn-rimmed glasses perched too small on her face. Her quiet appearance didn’t give away the colorful past she lived on the West Coast.

Once we swapped a few stories, I felt at ease talking about my own book. We exchanged emails and agreed to share writing. I’ll admit—I’m always a little intimidated by people like Ariel who have taken real writing classes. I’ve had no formal training; everything I’ve learned came from mistakes.

But Ariel had been part of a group of writers in California, and it reminded me how important it is to connect with others who share the same interests.

How the Universe Works

I’d been searching for the cover photo I used on the original version of my memoir. I wanted to use it again, if possible—but it was nowhere to be found. It wasn’t in any of my saved files. Not in my online photo backups. I was starting to fear it was gone for good.

But tonight, as I was pulling my backpack out of the backseat, I noticed a zip drive on the floor. My car is brand new. The interior is spotless. The zip drive just sat there—completely out of place. I checked my bag. All the pockets were closed.

How did it get there?

I plugged it into my computer. On it were several old files—including all the work I’d done on the original draft… and the photo.

This is how the universe works.

My Relentless Editor, Red

Red—the name I’ve given my ChatGPT editor—has set the bar for my memoir against some of the top works in the genre:
Wild by Cheryl Strayed, Lit by Mary Karr, This Boy’s Life by Tobias Wolff.

Red tells me my original manuscript, on the one-to-ten scale we created, started around a six. Now, it’s closer to an eight-point-five. I’m striving for ten.

I struggle through line-by-line edits, trying to maintain my words, my voice, while reaching the clarity and flow Red demands.

It’s not easy. Red keeps shifting the bar—pushing me to tighten the narrative, remove content I’m attached to, and add more reflection from my current voice. It’s hard to cut words I’m so close to. Still, we have a plan. A plan that might allow some of that material to be released one day.

An indie publisher is running a contest, and the submission window closes at the end of the month. Red thinks I’ll be ready by then. I wish I had more time—work keeps getting in the way.

Back to Writing

 With Gia gone—and a newfound appreciation for ChatGPT—I’ve returned to writing. I’ve decided to take another stab at re-editing my book. It was something I always wanted to do. Now I finally have the tools to make it happen.

ChatGPT has become my editor. It gives me constructive feedback, helps me shape the overall theme and the themes of individual chapters, and keeps me focused on the goals I’ve set. I even had it write both a positive and a negative critical review of the book, which I now use as benchmarks to guide the editing process. And I keep having it do this as we go, constantly refining.

I think there’s going to be a 100% improvement by the time it’s done—without losing my voice in the process. Even if I don’t republish this edition, I’m finally giving the book the time and attention it deserves.

More than that, I’m coming at it with a clearer sense of self—something that’s grown since Billie left.

7 or 8

 Thursday, we saw our first snowflakes of the season. They quickly turn to rain. It will be in the 60s and 70s over the next few days, but it is a harboring of things to come. Last night both my stomach and my back were bothering me.

Ava came over, but I was not feeling myself, and she didn't stay long. I should have gone with my instincts and canceled. I enjoyed seeing her, but it was not fun for either of us. We planned her coming back next Tuesday for an overnight.

I threw up twice after she left and spent the early morning hours on the toilet. I suspect food poisoning again. Probably the spinach I added to my soup. By morning I was so dehydrated I felt dizzy in the shower and passed out. I woke up lying on the floor half out of the shower, confused and thinking how comfy the shower mat was. The shower curtain buffered my fall, and I didn't sustain any bruises.

This afternoon my stomach and my back are feeling better. I just need to stay away from the ab press in our gym at work and be careful what I eat for a few days. Today worked from home, which helped eliminate a bit of that stress.

I received an email from Billie yesterday. She passed her electrical journeymen's test on a Monday and gave birth the following Friday. She says the baby is doing well. Billie says she enjoys staying home but plans to return to work in December.

Billie has made a whole new life for herself. The one she probably should have had from the start. I feel like I wouldn't recognize her anymore. She thinks I deserve better than to be just passing the time with Ava. I replied that it is nice that she still feels that way, but what we get and deserve isn't always the same. In fact, I believe our choices bring us where we are, and I am okay with that.

I said, I wish I had more news, but things don't move fast around here. If you stopped by, you'd probably think they haven't moved at all.

It's true. My condo is like I remember my grandparent's houses. Always the same. Never really changing. A sure sign that I am getting old. 

I noticed I got another negative review on my book. Both are from women. 

 "Ewww. What a sad life. Typical middle-aged guy thinking (that) with he's a 10 when he's clearly a 4 and overcompensates by paying for women. Trash."

It is disappointing, but it doesn't bother me much. I wrote the book for myself. Not to paint some false truth but to chronicle the past. They can read into what they want, and actually, I consider myself about a 7 or 8 :). I am of average height, in shape, good in bed, and make twice the national average income. 

Facta Non Verba

 Facta Non Verba- Latin for Actions, not words.

This phrase is tattooed on my left arm as part of my sleeve with several other intuitive Latin phrases (one of which I constructed myself). Words of wisdom I don’t follow enough. Firefly called me yesterday from some dude’s phone. She told me a series of truths and lies. She is not in a good place or with good people. I wormed enough facts out of her to learn approximately where she has been staying.

Firefly is in a rundown motel in Warren, two miles from Detroit. I know the area. The motels are known for a clientele of drifters, pimps, prostitutes, and addicts. She says she screwed up and wants to go back to rehab this week (Facta Non Verba). She skipped out from rehab with a girl from jail. She has been staying with the girl, her boyfriend, and the dude she borrowed the phone from. She told me she OD on Friday, so did the girl. The girl was worse than Firefly. Firefly didn’t need Naltrexone.

She says she was getting high in jail. I don’t doubt it. She wanted me to send her money for Xanax. She said she was done with opioids and was detoxing. I declined. She has no phone, no clothes, and no wallet. She wanted me to send it to this dude. Firefly says she wanted to come home, but she made excuses when I offered to pick her up. It is sad.

I woke up in the middle of the night to a revelation. The way she talked about the people she was with, how the guy was listening in on our conversation, and the location Firefly said they were staying at makes me believe she is with a pimp. I hope not. Her addiction makes her a perfect target to be trafficked.

I could poke around at the three motels. They are fifteen minutes from work, but I am not going to. Not this time. She needs to save herself (Facta Non Verba). It is hard for me to sit around and do nothing, but a part of me believes she does not deserve my help. She is not asking for help. She is just using me lately. I have seen it before, from Firefly, from Billie. Maybe she will find her rock bottom. The moment she decides to change. Billie did. Billie never got clean, but she changed.

I asked Billie once, during the height of her addiction and destructive actions, “When are you going to stop?”

“When the consequences are worse than the dope,” she replied.

I hope Firefly finds that line before it is too late.

Slow News Day

My book is part of a free Amazon Prime giveaway for anyone with a Kindle. You can't lose :).

I am convinced my staircase will be the death of me. My cat will trip me during one of my late-night descents, and I will break my neck. The cat will proceed to sustain herself by feed off the body until the corpse is found. Just saying.

On father's day, Max came over. he ordered food, and we played Warhammer 40k. I won, although it was close.

I'm still not a big fan of the game, but I think that is partly because I don't want to start painting my own figures. I have enough unfinished hobbies around the house. 

I feel I need to make a list of home improvements to tackle this year.  Minor repairs mostly, but I won't start anything inside until the end of summer or the fall. I don't plan on moving soon, but it doesn't hurt to keep the place up. 

Familiar Details

Tinkerbell is an internet sleuth. When I told her Firefly was arrested, she found Firefly and the boyfriend on the county inmate tracker during her lunch break. It wasn't a challenge. Firefly is in the county jail, which means she did not get arrested in Detroit.  They were probably pulled over on the return. Suburban police wait on the main roads coming out of the city to pull over suspected addicts.

Firefly is being held with a $20,000 bond. There is no 10% which means someone would have to post the entire $20,000 to get her out of jail until her court date. I don't see that happening. I actually think jail is a good place for her. If she survives detoxing cold turkey, she will be clean before her first court date on the twenty-first.

The boy has a $10,500 bond. $10,000 is from the current offense, and $500 is 10% of either a probation violation or a warrant out for his arrest.  I can only speculate. He looks like he was doing a lot of thinking in his mugshot.

For those of you who read my book, this all sounds very familiar.  Excerpt from my memoir, Lost and Found In Glitter.

Another Arrest (Recreated from Court Records and Memory)

Unposted: April 8, 2014

In the spring of 2014, Billie lived with her parents. LLL was out of the picture for good. He lost his house and was living with his parents. Billie worked the day shift at Penthouse. I went into the club to see her. She was a brat that day, but I could not understand why. She agreed to come back to my condo but tried to ditch me on the road. We ended up in a car chase through the city of Detroit and back to her parent's house. We were arguing outside their home when the police showed up. I am not sure whether her mom or the neighbors called the police.

Billie went inside the house. One office went to talk to her. The other spoke to me briefly and suggested it would be best if I left. I got into my Challenger and drove the hour home.

Later, Billie told me what happened next. She was sitting on her couch in the living room. The office saw her shove a baggy full of dope between the sofa cushions, and she got arrested. She couldn't avoid being arrested. She had a warrant for not obeying her previous arrest terms, but the dope added a second possession charge. This time there was no bail, and they sent her to Wayne county jail in downtown Detroit.

I was partially to blame for her arrest. She remained in the Wayne county jail for over a month. Billie felt like her parents weren't helping her. I got her a lawyer and paid off her outstanding fines. She was sentenced to probation and a drug rehab program, but she went to neither. The day she got out of jail, she used. She returned to stripping a few days after, but jail scared her, and things slowly changed. This was the turning point of our relationship.

*     *     *

Unlike Billie and me, this will not be a turning point for Firefly and me. I understand Harvey's question now. While I should have gone to AlAnon during my time with Billie, I am glad we had the time together we did. I needed it as much as she. Firefly, on the other hand, only benefits from being around me when it helps me. Unfortunately, I don't see that happening any time soon.

"We think we are out to find partners that will make us feel happy, but we are not. We are out to find partners that feel familiar. And that may be a very different thing. Because familiarity may be bound up in particular types of torture (from our childhood). We pick partners that make us suffer in the ways we need to suffer in order to feel that love is real." Alain de Botton

I feel I've come a long way just being able to understand that quote. I imagine the guy Billie is with and I would have a lot in common.

Polar Vortex

 To Billie and Tinkerbell, my book represents a past they wish to forget. It is something they would not want to read. I did not understand this at first. Not all the things I captured concerning myself were positive either, but there were good moments along the way.

For me, my book symbolizes moving forward. I am working on it still. I apologize to and appreciate all those who have bought a copy. I am working with Grammarly and an editor for one more attempt at getting it to where I can feel happy with the results. It has been a learning experience. I will gladly send another copy to those who purchased it when I am satisfied. During the past few weeks, I have felt discouraged, but I have found ways to move forward and ways to improve my writing.

This morning it was -10 degrees outside. I drove to the dentist for my six-month cleaning. I cannot imagine being outside for any amount of time in such cold. 

Cold seeps into the house during the day. I never feel warm until I am downstairs riding my bike or back under the covers of my bed. Lately, I have preferred being under the covers.

Firefly stays up all night, disrupting my sleep pattern. It is the crack. The past two days reminded me why I  kicked her out in the first place. She is worse now than before. She wants to be left alone but given any freedom, she self-destructs. I'd compromise if it didn't affect my sleep, or my life.  But it will end up happening. It is enviable.

The Book

I am very proud of my book. It is something I wanted to do for a long time. It may not be best seller material but I think it is a compilation of some of my best writing. I know it is difficult for some of the people mentioned in the book to relive the past. It was hard for me to reread some parts.  Tinkerbell doesn't want to read it.  I doubt Billie would either.  It was never my intention to paint anyone in a bad light. It is a story. The characters are real and the events happened.  True all the events were recorded through my eyes and people see things differently.

 I don't think it paints anyone as a villain or a hero. It is a snapshot of life. I think it is a good story because things aligned.  Blogging was popular and I would put a lot of effort into chronicling my life. I don't think I will be able to recapture it again. It was fifteen years in the making. I doubt there will be a volume two.

 I only wish I could capture a fictional tale with the same vivid imagery.

My First Review

 I received my first review today. It was not good. The reviewer seems to like giving negative reviews. I am not popular with middle age females. No surprise. She has given out several one star reviews. She seems to have a bit of an axe to grind. She seems to be in the minority opinion on other books she has reviewed. It is disappointing for my first review to be only one star. I am working on editing the book one more time.

What I Have Been Thinking

 Even tough I have published my memoir.  I am still compiling a final edit to eliminate any typos I am getting from reader feedback.

It was sometime after traveling through the Mojave in the Jeep that I had a weak moment. I sent an image of me beside the Jeep to Billie. The same image I ended up using as my about the author bio page. I was feeling a momentary loneliness on the road.  It did not last long and we only exchange three text (two were mine). I have refrained from discussing my life in depth with Billie for some time. I feel like anything I share would be akin to bragging and indeed that picture, me with a band new Jeep Gladiator in the Mojave, was bragging.

After a difficult year following the break-up my life has gotten better. I haven't been alone. I am working from home.  I bought the new truck.  I went on a twenty-four day trip across the country and complete my novel. Both of of which, I consider bucket list goals.

I am been thinking about this road trip. Ultimately the trip was for myself but it was something I was not prepared to do on my own. It was a lesson in enjoying the moment. Firefly enjoyed the experience. Billie would have enjoyed it too but differently. Billie would never have been able to go on such a trip. I give Firefly credit for composing herself enough to go.

I have not sent a link to the memoir to Billie. I am not sure she would want to read it. she would probably want to forget about that time of her life.  It does not matter, I wrote the book for myself. I put together the post because I feel like it is some of the best writing I have done.

Firefly is still living with me. Since the accident she has kept a low profile. I don't mind the company. I have not been going out much myself. She is looking for jobs and has only left the house with me or her mother. Though she would not agree, not having a car has kept her clean and out of trouble. She is not happy with the situation, but I do not care. It is up to her to change it.

The completion of my novel has left me with free time. I am tried of looking at that manuscript but I miss writing it.  I started a fantasy novel, long ago when I was still married.  I only have a printed hard copy of the original work.  I think I will start putting that into the computer again and working on that.

 

T-Minus Two Days, and Counting

 It is two days before our departure.  Firefly says she is excited but she still needs to get her prescription for Suboxone today.  Yesterday they would not give it to her.  She had a faint trace of cocaine show up on her drug test.  She says it was a false positive but I doubt it.  

I am not going to get my hopes up until we are actually on the road.  I have been disappointed too many times in the past.  If we go, I plan on making it an epic journey to the best of my abilities.  If we don't, I plan on painting the moldings along the top of the half wall that borders the loft and stairwell.  Inside I have resigned myself to either outcome.

I have sent Tinkerbell a copy of my book for her to read and give me feedback.  I am pretty happy with it.  It looks like a novel.  It has a cover page, copyright, dedication, and table of content.  I have been reading a book on Amazon that describes how to format it for self publication.  Dave I might pic your brain on this also as you have successfully published four novels that way.

My hope is to have a picture of me beside the Jeep Gladiator with the mountains of the Southwest behind me.  If nothing else, this goal, completing my first draft, is complete.  I am taking my computer on the trip.  To do research on the journey.  I will try to keep you posted along the way.

Memoir Update

 I have finished a first draft of my memoir.  It comes out to 349 pages.  A respectable size for a novel.  I am still working on refining and adding things.  I am no longer posting it to Wattpad but if a few people would like to read it in this state and provide feedback email me at dashfelodese@gmail.com

I would love to hear any criticism.