Mike Zwicker, covered in golf-course grime from his summer job, stood under the eaves of the New Smyrna Beach rec center chatting with me, making no move to commandeer his ornery little brother, Steve, into the car. Warm rain bucketed down beside us, misting my skin,...
I shoved my dollar and twenty-five cents deeper into my pocket and piled out of the backseat, R.J. right behind me. I had to work to keep my face from smiling. It didn’t pay to smile around Dad. He’d find a way to squash happy like a mosquito. Dad slammed the...
I tip-toed across the deck, debating the chances I could disappear before Dad saddled me with some miserable boat chore he thought up while I was sitting in Sister Sheila’s sixth grade English class. I skirted the cockpit and ducked behind the aft cabin, not daring to...
Chasing Happy, set in two towns I’ve called home—Gilbert, Arizona, and New Smyrna Beach, Florida—took three years to write. The story springs from a deep well of emotion that early readers say they sense in Ash’s tale. A young man in my life struggled with same sex...
Mike Zwicker, covered in golf-course grime from his summer job, stood under the eaves of the New Smyrna Beach rec center chatting with me, making no move to commandeer his ornery little brother, Steve, into the car. Warm rain bucketed down beside us, misting my skin,...
