Some stories take a bite out of you, not only while you’re writing it, but later, even just thinking about it. This was one of those for me. There is enough reality behind it. One evening not so long ago I had to be rushed to an emergency room in New York City in the case of an actual emergency. While there, waiting and waiting and sliding into shock, I had the fortune to be lying on a gurney in the hallway beside a dying man, listening to the self-absorbed whiny chatter of his nephew, who would rather have been anywhere else than there, as if the rest of us, his uncle included, were absolutely thrilled about the situation! Even after more hospitals and surgeries and post-op complications and other traumatic events, that night and those two men continue to haunt my dreams. Even when they spilled out into a fictional format, their ghosts will not leave me alone. I am both of those men and I know it.
Originally published as Jimmy Cruise, Last Chance, I knew the book needed a different title. Maybe this is the final one.